Holocron
by Raven3182
Summary: Lost in a vast, underground system of caves, seven-year-old Harry Potter stumbles upon a glowing, blue cube that has lain forgotten in the darkness for thousands of years. Find out what happens when Harry embarks on his journey to Hogwarts with a Jedi Holocron in tow. The Force is strong with him, but a Jedi must always be wary of the power of the dark side…
1. I

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

I

 _Saturday, August 15, 1987_

"Keep up, boy!" Vernon Dursley growled as he roughly grabbed a hold of seven-year-old Harry Potter's arm and began to drag him forward. "I'll not waste my time searching about for you if you get lost."

"Leave the _freak_ alone, Vernon," Petunia said. "Don't put a damper on Duddy's fun by shouting at the little miscreant. We'll discipline him later."

Vernon shot one last glare at his nephew before releasing his vice-like grip.

"Might do us well if he'd wander off anyways," the large man grumbled to himself, "no longer need to house the _freak_ …"

Harry tried to rub some feeling back into his arm as he continued to glance around the dimly lit cavern they were passing through. Dudley had recently watched some movie and decided that he wanted to be an adventurer and archeologist. He thought he would be exploring deep, forgotten caves for undiscovered treasures. And so it was that Uncle Vernon had packed up the car to take his wife and son on a weekend trip for a guided tour of one of the largest cave formations in the British Isles.

Mrs. Figg was unfortunately out of town, so they were reluctantly forced to bring Harry along with them as well.

Harry stopped and looked up at the stalactites that seemed to hang off the ceiling like pointed teeth. Tiny mineral deposits in the stone all around them sparkled like stars in the reflected light from the helmet-mounted torches that each member of the group was wearing.

There was something strange about the caves, Harry thought. The air felt different somehow. Heavier. And there was also the sense that there was someone waiting for him just out of sight.

Harry shook himself out of his wandering thoughts and ran to catch up with the tour group before they got too far ahead and he was left alone in the dark.

"Over there," the guide said gesturing off to his right, "is Saul's Labyrinth. It's a huge complex of twisting tunnels—"

"Are there any bottomless pits?" Dudley interrupted the guide.

The young man paused to look at the portly boy.

"I'm afraid not."

"What kind of cave is this then?!" Dudley demanded, "I want to throw my cousin into a bottomless pit!"

"It's okay, Dudders," Vernon tried to placate the child, "we'll find something exciting soon."

"This place is boring!" the boy started to rant. "There's no monsters or dragons or anything good! Why'd you bring me here if I can't even throw the _freak_ down a pit?!"

The tour guide was silent for a long moment before he started again.

"Ummm… Like I was saying, Saul's Labyrinth is a huge complex of twisting tunnels. It's never been fully mapped or explored, but our best estimate is that there's over fifty miles of caverns in that one section alone."

"Boring!"

Harry slid as far away from Dudley as possible. When his cousin was bored it usually meant that he was soon going to start tormenting him. And Harry did not like the idea of being thrown into a bottomless pit.

He stopped next to the dark opening that the guide had described. The air in the Labyrinth felt even stranger than the rest of the caves. Harry reached out a hand toward it, and then shuddered as an icy chill ran down his spine. There was something in there. Something he'd never felt before, and yet… familiar.

The tour guide's voice began to fade as the group started to move ahead to their next station. Harry reluctantly turned away from the opening only to immediately stop in his tracks. Dudley was standing just a few feet in front of him with a cruel smile fixed on his face.

"So, _freak_ ," the large boy said. "This place sucks. I'm bored. And you know what that means…"

Harry swallowed nervously as he felt his heart speed up. A well-known fear began to take hold in the pit of his stomach.

"Harry hunting!"

Dudley sprang forward, his hands already clenched into fists, as he sought his victim.

Harry leapt backwards, spun around, and sprinted into the opening of the Labyrinth.

"Get back here, _freak_!" Dudley shouted.

Harry tried to put his cousin's taunting out of his mind as he ran into the darkness. The helmet's light bounced and reflected off the narrow walls of the passageways as Harry ran around corners and blindly jumped over fissures in the ground. His cousin's voice grew faint, but still he kept running, resolved that Dudley wouldn't catch him this time.

Eventually he had to stop. Harry bent over with his hands on his knees as he sucked in great gulps of air. Little by little his breathing slowed. He closed his eyes and strained his hearing, listening for any sound of Dudley's pursuit. He couldn't make out even the slightest sound from his cousin. Harry sighed in relief. But then he realized that not only could he not hear Dudley, but he couldn't hear anything at all.

Harry found himself alone in cold, dead silence.

His heart began to speed up again as a new terror started to take hold, a primeval fear of the dark, a fear of things that could not be seen. He quickly spun around, using the feeble light on his helmet to try and find the path back to where he came from. But he hadn't been paying any attention as he ran from his cousin, and there were several narrow passageways leading away from where he was standing.

"Hello?" he squeaked out.

His voice seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness, not even the merest echo surviving.

"HELLO?!" he screamed.

No response came.

Harry franticly tried to think. The guide had said something about what to do if you got lost… what was it? He growled in frustration because he hadn't been listening. At the time he had been more worried about staying out of Dudley's reach than listening to the safety instructions.

Someone would have to come find him, right? They would notice he was missing. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would see that he wasn't with the group and say something, right?

Or would they just be happy that he had gotten lost? They'd be singing and dancing at the fact that they'd never have to see him again.

Harry was now close to hyperventilating. He was lost, alone, and no one was going to come find him. He backed up against the wall, slid down to the floor, pulled his knees up to his chest, and let his terror devolve into tears.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Some unimaginably long time later, Harry lay curled up on the cold, stone floor. His tears had eventually run out, leaving salty tracks down his face. But as his whimpers slowed, so did his breathing, and he was once again aware of the silence of the labyrinthine cave system. However, it was now somehow less terrifying. Nothing had come for him yet. Maybe nothing would. Besides, Harry had never been afraid of the dark before, why should he be scared now?

He pushed himself to his feet and turned to one of the passageways.

"Hello?" he called out.

He closed his eyes and strained his hearing for any hint of a sound. He pushed out his senses, desperate to hear something, anything that might lead him out of that place. All he heard was deafening silence.

But he did _feel_ something.

It was odd. It wasn't something that he could see, touch, taste, hear, or smell, but he could definitely feel it. A presence. A gentle stirring. So faint that he was afraid that it would disappear at any moment.

He opened his eyes and looked around for whatever it was, but saw nothing but the oppressive darkness of the caves. Yet the feeling remained. Calling to him. Inviting him. Beckoning him to follow wherever it might lead him.

Harry closed his eyes and sighed once more. No one was going to come look for him. This feeling, whatever it was, might be his only chance. He drew up as much courage as he could find and slowly stepped into one of the narrow crevices, following the invitation of the gentle presence.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Time held little meaning in the silence and darkness.

Harry had no idea how long he'd been walking, following the feeling that steadily beckoned him forward. It could have been minutes or hours or even days. He was definitely starting to feel rather hungry. But there was no end in sight, only more darkness.

Yet the presence that was leading him was as persistent was it was gentle. A few times his mind had started to wander, and he realized with a spike of fear that he had lost it. But with a few calming breaths and a moment of straining his senses, he was able to find it again.

He was starting to grow tired. Not only was he hungry, but his legs were starting to ache. Yet there was nothing for it, he could either lay down in the darkness or continue on to find whatever was calling to him. He chose to keep walking.

Suddenly he saw something up ahead. Harry strained his eyes and nudged his glasses, trying to make it out. It seemed to be a faint, blue blur.

He cautiously crept ahead. Soon he could see that the wall was reflecting a soft, blue light. Harry continued around the corner and came into a small, dead-end chamber that was illuminated with the same cerulean hue. Tiny minerals sparkled in its glow in the stone all around him amidst the shadows cast by the stalactites and stalagmites.

The feeling was stronger here, yet softer as well. Harry's eyes were drawn to the far corner that seemed to hold the origin of the strange azure light. He slowly crept over and bent down to see a small, blue cube that was partly lodged and half buried in a crevice in the floor.

It was intricately carved from some sort of otherworldly crystal; the patterns and designs on its surface were finer and more detailed than any of the expensive lace or china that his aunt so often pined over. And the cube was glowing, steadily emitting the soft, cerulean light that gently filled the chamber.

Harry swallowed and gathered his courage. He reached out a hesitant hand and carefully pried the cube out of the floor. It looked extremely fragile, and he was afraid that he might accidentally break it, or crack it against the stone, but it came away from the crevice without so much as a scratch.

It was a tiny little thing, probably less than two inches on each side. Harry let it rest on the palm of his hand as he stared intently into the depths of the blue light that seemed to emanate from deep within. He felt himself being drawn again, his senses teased and beckoned by the mysterious object. He focused all his attention upon it and strained to _feel_ whatever was calling to him.

Suddenly the light in the chamber contracted, pulling back close to the cube. And yet, the object itself seemed to shine brighter, its inner light gleaming with a new burning intensity. A faint blue mist began to coalesce and gently swirl around it.

And then a tiny blue figure winked into existence, floating in the air just above the cube.

Harry gasped in fright and almost dropped the cube, but barely managed to catch himself.

The figure vaguely resembled a man, but instead of hair, he had two long tails growing out of the back of his head that hung down his back. He was wearing strange clothes that looked more like uncle Vernon's bathrobe than anything else Harry knew. The figure seemed to be made out of the eerie blue light, a semi-transparent image that was gazing back at Harry with tiny, but intense eyes.

The figure's mouth opened, and it spoke in a language that Harry was absolutely certain he had never heard before.

And yet, the words reverberated in his mind and flowed into meaning.

 _Youngling, where is your master?_

"What?" Harry asked aloud.

 _Where is your master?_

"What master? Do you mean my uncle Vernon?"

 _Are you not a youngling of the Jedi? The Force is strong with you._

"Umm… I don't know what that means."

The figure seemed to think for a moment.

 _How is it that you came to find and activate this Holocron if you are not of the Jedi?_

"I don't know what that means. I got lost in the caves here. I just had this… kind of… _feeling_ … and I followed it here and I found you."

 _I see. Only one who is strong in the Force should be able to access the data held within this Holocron. I have no doubt that it was the Force that led you here._

"The Force?"

 _Doubtlessly it was the feeling that brought you to this place, that beckoned you to find this Holocron._

"What's a Holocron?"

 _For thousands of years, Holocrons were crafted by the greatest of the Jedi to be repositories of their wisdom, knowledge, and arts. Imbued with the power of the Force, they were handed down from generation to generation that each might benefit from the wisdom and experience of the past._

That explanation made little sense to Harry.

"How'd you end up in a cave?"

 _I do not know. I was last referenced by Jedi Master Bar-kun Motu, who was searching for a means to flee the galaxy._

Every question that Harry asked just seemed to make him more and more confused.

"When was that?"

 _By my counting, that was 24,867 years, 257 days, thirteen hours, and twelve seconds ago, accounting for the rotation cycle of this planet and the time needed to complete a circumnavigation of its sun._

"Twenty four thousand years?!"

 _If you are rounding, it is closer to twenty five._

"What's rounding?"

 _Rounding is the process of replacing a number by another number of approximately the same value but having fewer significant digits._

"Right." This line of questioning wasn't really getting him anywhere. It seemed like the little figure had enough patience to simply stand there and answer his questions all day long, even if the answers didn't make any sense.

There was of course, one question that was probably a bit more pressing that anything else.

"Do you know how to get out of here?"

 _I do not understand your question. Please elaborate._

"Umm… I got lost in these caves," Harry gestured to the stone walls around him, "and then that feeling, err… the _Force_ brought me to you. Do you know how to get out of here and back to my relatives?"

 _If it was the will of the Force that brought you here, the obvious method for returning to your point of origin would be to follow the Force back out again._

"I don't know what that means."

 _You do not know how to embrace the Force?_ The little figure's voice almost sounded surprised.

"Err… no?"

 _And yet you managed to find and activate this Holocron?_

"I guess? Can you teach me to do it?"

 _Of course. My purpose is to hand on the wisdom and knowledge of the Jedi. Instruction in the basics of the Jedi Arts is well within my capabilities. Be seated._

Harry did as he was told and sat down with his legs crossed on the stone floor.

 _Place the Holocron on the floor in front of you._

"You won't disappear, will you?"

 _My holographic image shall remain displayed until you will it otherwise._

"Okay." Harry gently placed the Holocron on the ground.

 _Now close your eyes… and breathe. Just… breathe…_

He did as he was instructed. Letting the darkness and silence fill him. Allowing his slow breaths to calm his agitation. Time slowly passed by.

 _Now, reach out with your senses._

Harry strained once more as he had earlier when he was desperately listening for someone, anyone that might have been trying to find him. He stretched out with _something_ that wasn't his eyes or his ears, something that was a part of him but had never known was there before.

 _What do you feel?_

"I… Err… I don't know…"

 _Gently. Surrender to your senses._

"It's… like a soft summer breeze. But not…" Harry scrunched up his face as he tried to explain it.

 _It is the Force that you feel. It flows through you, here in this cave, binding you, connecting you to the rock, to the air, and even to the darkness. Now ask the Force to lead you out of this place._

"How do I do that?"

 _Ask it._

"Okay… Err… Can you take me out of here, please?"

 _No. Not aloud. The Force does not have ears to hear you. You must stretch out with your feelings and ask it through your will._

"Err… right."

Harry focused again and tried to do as he was instructed. He concentrated on the question he had in mind.

 _Do not impose yourself so strongly upon the Force. Let the Force flow through you and around you. Let it take up the question when and if it so wills._

Harry tried to relax, but still kept his senses stretched out while the question was held in his mind.

And then he felt it.

The same stirring, the same gentle presence that had led him to the cavern with the Holocron had returned. But now it was beckoning him back down the narrow passage.

"I feel it!" Harry shouted as he leapt to his feet, only to sigh as the stirring slipped through his fingers.

 _Calm yourself, youngling, or you will not maintain your place within the flow of the Force._

Harry settled himself down and reached out again. The feeling came more quickly this time, and he fought against the urge to celebrate.

"It wants me to go back that way."

 _Then you must follow as the Force beckons._

"Can I take you with me?"

 _You may do so if you so choose._

Harry reached down to pick up the tiny Holocron. He spent one last moment looking at the strange figure before moving to put the cube in his pocket. As soon as he did so, the holographic figure winked out of existence and the blue light faded to all but the faintest speck within the very heart of the cube.

A brief moment of panic rose within his chest, and he once against lost his connection to the Force.

He sighed and closed his eyes. _He said he would go away when I willed it,_ Harry thought to himself. _I guess he'll come back the same way._

He decided against testing his theory for the moment, and instead concentrated on seeking out the Force and its path out of the Labyrinth. It came still easier as he reached out for it once again, and he gently took hold of the faint tendril of warmth that seemed to dance in his mind, inviting him to follow it.

He slipped the Holocron into his pocket and started off along the pathway.

The pale light from his helmet's flashlight was a poor substitute for the light of the Holocron, but he used it to guide his eyes while his attention was on another sense that directed his steps back toward his relatives.

* * *

 **AN: So starts** _ **Holocron**_ **, my new Harry Potter/Star Wars crossover. In case you didn't pick up on the subtext, the idea is that a Jedi Master took the Holocron with him as he made a desperate gamble and left the galaxy far far away for deep space in order to escape the Jedi Purge. Somehow, it ended up in a cave on earth, where it was lost for millennia until Harry stumbled upon it.**

 **I know that I said that I learned a lesson with** _ **Harry Potter and the Knight of the Radiant Heart**_ **, and that I wouldn't publish a new story until I had a complete rough draft, but I decided to ignore the lessons that I should have learned. Besides, I thought that this might benefit from some feedback, and maybe a few reviews might help motivate me to write some more.**

 **A note on what I consider to be canon(ish)** **: Canon is defined as: the seven Harry Potter novels, 3 of the Star Wars movies (Episodes IV, V, and VI), and perhaps a few cherry-picked elements from the other Episodes. That's it. HOWEVER, the whole point of fanfiction is to play around with what's been given to us. So you can assume that anything *** _ **essential***_ **to the worlds from the sources mentioned above remains in effect. Anything else is out the window. I'm not interested in** _ **Fantastic Beasts**_ **or** _ **Pottermore**_ **or** _ **Cursed Children with Broken Plot Devices**_ **. And I'm probably never going to read them. So please don't come crying to me about Obscurials or the fact that Harry's grandfather was named Fleamont (** _ **Fleamont? Really?**_ **Who came up with** _ **that?)**_ **Because I. Don't. Care. Also, the word "Midichlorians" is strictly** _ **forbidden**_ **! Utter it upon pain of me rolling my eyes at you!**

 **No promises on an update schedule, I'll post chapters as I find time to write them. I** _ **do**_ **have a few more drafted already. Those will go up relatively soon - I just need to find time to polish them.**

 **I know that I promised a sequel to** _ **HP & KoRH**_ **, but the plot hasn't really gotten the traction that I think it needs in my mind. And then I thought of this. So we'll see where it goes instead.**

 **I'd like to partially dedicate this story to Darth Marrs, the author of many good (and completed!) HP/SW stories here on ffn. My personal favorite is** _ **The Katarn Side**_ **(check it out!) Several of his works have been sources of enjoyment for me over the years, so this is, in part, a thank you.**

 **This note is getting long…**

 **Finally, what did you think? Let me know in a review on your way out.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. II

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

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Holocron

II

 _Sunday, August 16, 1987_

Uncle Vernon roughly threw Harry into the cupboard under the stairs and slammed the door shut.

"And stay in there, you little _freak_!" he shouted as the bolt slid over to its locked position. "Trying to lead our Dudley into the caves to get lost! You'll be lucky if I ever let you see the light of day again!"

Harry could feel the floorboards reverberate as his uncle stomped off in a fury.

The Dursleys had not taken Harry's disappearance from the tour group and his subsequent reappearance well. Apparently he had embarrassed them in front of the others as neither his uncle nor his aunt had noticed that he was missing until the guide stopped to take a head count. Petunia and Vernon had to suffer through more than one sneer from condescending park rangers as they organized search parties.

The fact that Harry was now something of a minor celebrity with the rangers since he managed to calmly find his own way out of the Labyrinth, and was treated by them to a small celebration, only added insult injury.

Dudley, of course, had spun a tale about how Harry had attempted to lure him into the depths to do something unspeakable to him. Aunt Petunia seemed to think it was only by an act of Divine Providence that her son had made it through the ordeal in one piece.

And then there was the trip home. Harry was honestly surprised that they survived the long car ride. Between what amounted to a sleepless night for three of them (Dudley had no trouble nodding off while Harry was missing), Vernon's enraged shouting, Petunia's shrill hysterics, and Dudley's taunting, it was a miracle that they hadn't crashed. As soon as they arrived at Privet Drive, Harry was forcefully thrown into his cupboard.

He was sure that he was in for several unpleasant days ahead.

Harry tried to lie perfectly still so as to not draw any attention to himself or provoke any further violence from his relatives. The best he could probably hope for at the moment was for them to ignore him. His only hesitant movement was to bring his hand up to press against the back of his head where it had bounced off the back wall of the cupboard when Vernon had thrown him in.

He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing as he lay curled up on his thin mattress. His relatives were noisily going about their evening, unpacking their belongings and preparing something to eat after their long ordeal. Harry tried to push them out of his mind and focus on getting some much needed rest.

Surprisingly, it did not take him long to fall asleep.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Harry stirred awake some unknown time later. There was something digging into his thigh rather uncomfortably. He stayed perfectly still for a moment as his eyes turned toward the door. There wasn't any light coming from the crack at the bottom – that meant it must be nighttime and that his relatives were asleep.

Reassured that he could move around a bit without drawing unwanted attention to himself, Harry rolled over to move off of whatever was jabbing his leg. He reached into his pocket to see what it was. He pulled out a small, blue cube.

The Holocron.

 _I'd almost forgotten about that_ , Harry thought to himself. So much had happened since he had emerged from the caves, and he was so focused on drawing as little attention to himself as possible, that he hadn't spared a second thought for the strange device that had likely saved his life.

The light of the Holocron was still nothing more than a dim speck at the heart of the crystalline cube. He turned it over in his hand and nervously glanced at the door once again. It would definitely be a risk, but he just felt like he had to try speaking to the strange thing again.

He closed his eyes and summoned his courage before opening them again and focusing all of his senses on the Holocron. He slowed his breathing, and tried to reach out to the Force as he had when he was looking for the path out of the caves, but instead of looking outward for help, he was now trying to reach into the little cube.

It took a few minutes, but eventually blue light flared from within the crystal followed by the odd cerulean mist. And then the little figure winked into existence and floated above the Holocron once again.

"I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get you to work," Harry whispered to the figure.

 _Worry not, youngling,_ the alien creature's meaning reverberated in Harry's mind even as its soft voice filled the cupboard with unfamiliar sounds, _the Force is strong with you. You should not have any trouble accessing this Holocron._

"Why do you call me 'youngling'?"

 _Is it not what you are? Are you not a juvenile member of the human species?_

"You mean, I'm just a kid, right?"

 _Correct._

"So, it doesn't mean 'freak' or something like that?"

 _Why would I have reason to refer to you in such a manner?_

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"That's what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always call me."

 _I see. Worry not, youngling, this term is used by the Jedi to refer to nearly all sentient species while they are yet in their developmental stages._

"Oh."

Harry just stared at the figure for a moment while he waited for something else to happen. When nothing did, he eventually decided to try saying something else.

"You can call me 'Harry' if you want."

 _Very well. I shall do so from now on, young Harry._

"What should I call you?"

 _I am a Jedi Holocron. I have no proper name. Though my holographic image takes the form of Jedi Master Isu Sotr, my creator. Should you feel the need to do so, you may refer to me as 'Master Isu.'_

"Okay."

Again, silence filled the tiny space.

"So… what do you want to talk about, Master Isu?"

 _I was created for the purpose of sharing the wisdom of past Jedi masters with those members of the order that found themselves in need of counsel. You are not a Jedi, young Harry, therefore, it would be inappropriate to share such knowledge with you. It would doubtlessly be beyond your capability to comprehend in any event._

"Oh."

 _My secondary purpose is to aid in the training of younglings and apprentices in the Jedi Arts. Should you wish, I can assist you in your training._

"My training?"

 _Your training to master your connection to the Force and realize your potential as a Jedi._

"Okay, let's do that I guess."

 _Very well. What is your current level of understanding when it comes to knowledge of the Force and the traditions of the Jedi Order?_

"Err… only what you've told me, really…"

 _Then we shall start at the beginning._

 _There is no emotion, there is peace_. _There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force._

 _The life of the Jedi finds its source and summit in the Force, an energy field created by all living things. It surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together…_

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Sunday, August 23, 1987_

Petunia yanked the door open, letting the harsh morning light invade the tiny space beneath the stairs. She grumbled under her breath when she once again failed to startle her nephew. Instead of scampering back away from her, the _freak_ was calmly sitting on his tattered mattress with his legs crossed beneath him and his eyes closed. He seemed… peaceful.

Petunia didn't like it one bit.

"Wake up, you good for nothing _freak_!" she screamed at him.

The boy opened his eyes and glanced up at her.

"Good morning, Aunt Petunia. Shall I get started on breakfast then?"

She flung out her arm and silently pointed toward the kitchen. She ground her teeth as the boy quickly sprang to his feet and made his way down the hall. She followed him, hovering over his shoulder like a hawk ready to pounce upon its prey at the first sign of weakness.

There was something off about the boy. Ever since he failed to lose himself in those cursed caves the boy had a different air about him. He was too calm. Too aware of what was around him. The _freakishness_ was no doubt rearing its ugly head early in the child.

She watched as the boy went to the refrigerator and quickly gathered a large pile of ingredients into his arms.

"Be careful, _freak_ ," she hollered at him, "if you drop any of those eggs on my floor it'll be your hide!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he answered. "I'll be careful."

And he was.

She watched as he carried what for anyone else would have been a precarious stack of ingredients over to the countertop while pulling a stool behind him with his foot. If she had tried that there would have quickly been a mess on her freshly polished floor. The _freak_ managed to keep everything perfectly balanced as he set about starting his daily chores by making the family breakfast.

She'd have to keep her eye on him to make sure his _freakishness_ didn't spread and hurt her little Diddy-Dums…

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Tuesday, August 25, 1987_

"I've finished pruning the rose bushes, Aunt Petunia," the boy said from the entrance to the kitchen.

Petunia cringed as the sound reached her ears. She scowled at him from her perch at the table where she had been enjoying a cup of tea. She growled when she couldn't see even one tiny scratch on his hands. She had been hoping that the thorns might do something to keep his _freakishness_ at bay.

She looked over to the clock. It was only a quarter to eleven in the morning. She'd already made him wash all the windows, weed the garden, scrub out the garbage cans, and prune the rose bushes. And the daft boy didn't even look tired! She was running out of things for him to do.

Petunia grumbled as she looked down into her tea, realizing that it now looked decidedly less than appetizing.

"Go wander off to the park or something and get out of my hair!"

"What?" the boy asked with a look of confusion.

"I said get out of here and leave me in piece, you little _freak_!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," the boy replied as he turned to flee from her presence. She heard him make a quick stop at his 'bedroom' before he hurried out the front door and away from her.

She got up and went to the sink where she poured the remains of her tea down the drain. Her house was immaculate. She'd worked the boy like a slave over the past week. It seemed like he never got tired. She would've been impressed with him if she didn't know that it was all due to his… unnaturalness…

She wouldn't be able to stand it much longer. Maybe she could convince that old harridan Figg to take the boy for a few afternoons? Or perhaps she could leave the _freak_ to his own devices outdoors and away from her…

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Friday, October 16, 1987_

"Hey Dud," Piers whispered to his friend from their hiding place behind the bushes, "here he comes."

"Yeah, I see him," Dudley replied.

They were lying in wait for another round of Dudley's favorite afterschool activity – Harry hunting. Piers didn't mind. He always got a kick out of seeing the look of fear on the kid's face. Dudley, however, had been oddly insistent upon tormenting his cousin, especially since the _freak_ started getting perfect scores on all of his assignments. Dudley didn't like getting shown up by his cousin.

Piers carefully took another glance. Potter was slowly drifting down the sidewalk. His eyes were unfocused, as if his mind was off wandering a thousand miles away as he made his way home from school.

Perfect.

"He's totally zoned out," Piers said. "He'll never see us coming."

They waited until their target passed them by so that his back would be toward them. And then they leapt out of hiding.

"Hey _freak_!" Dudley shouted as he started running, "guess what time it is?"

Potter only spared them one backwards glance before he sprang into motion, sprinting down the sidewalk away from them.

"You're only making it harder on yourself, Potter!" Piers called out as he really started to run. He'd always been fast. His thin, wiry build was perfect for speed, or so his dad always said. Chasing Potter always gave him a thrill.

They kept on running, filled with the resilient energy of youth. But soon Dudley was struggling with labored breathing and even Piers himself was beginning to slow down.

Potter just kept on going.

"When'd your cousin get so bloody fast?"

"Dunno," Dudley managed to gasp out between his panting.

Up ahead, Piers saw Potter turn into one of the alleyways between two shops.

"Ha!" he laughed. "We've got him now! That's a dead end!"

Dudley stopped and bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Piers paid him no mind as he sped up to cut off any chance of Potter realizing his mistake and trying to slip out of the alley. He turned the corner just in time to see his prey still sprinting toward the ten-foot-high brick wall at the far end of the alley.

"Oh this is priceless!" Piers cheered. "Potty's gonna break his face!"

But his laughter was abruptly cut off as he watched the other boy leap into the air and with a tight, forward somersault, arc over the wall and disappear behind it.

"What the…?"

Dudley eventually staggered around the corner as Piers was staring, open-mouthed at the wall.

"Where's the _freak_?"

Piers turned to stare at his friend.

"Well?"

He pointed at the wall.

"He just did a bloody flip and jumped over the wall."

"Don't be daft," Dudley answered. "Where's he hiding?"

"I'm telling you, he jumped over the wall!"

"That thing is ten feet high. Ain't no way a scrawny thing like him could jump it."

"I'm telling you I saw it!"

"Whatever. Let's go. Maybe we can catch up to him at the park."

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Monday, April 4, 1988_

"Hey Dud!" Piers called out as he caught sight of his friend coming toward him near the entrance to the park. "Check this out. My dad got it for me for Easter!"

He then proudly presented his new slingshot. It was no child's toy made from a Y-shaped twig and a rubber band. No, _this_ baby had a metal frame, an arm brace, and a high-tension elastic band.

"Whoa," Dudley said as he inspected their new means for wreaking destruction in Little Whinging.

"I bet we can smash out all of Figg's windows from across the street with this!"

"Ha!" Dudley laughed. "That'll be good. Let's go."

Together they picked up a few pebbles and then made their way over toward Wisteria Walk. Along the way, they spotted one of Mrs. Figg's many cats lazing on top of a fence post.

"Wait a minute," Dudley said as he came to a halt. "I've got an idea. Give me the slingshot."

Piers grinned as he caught on and handed it over.

Dudley carefully put a pebble into the leather pouch, pulled back the elastic as far as he could, and took careful aim. A moment later he let the stone fly and watched it speed through the air and strike the cat in one of its rear legs. The poor animal let out a frightened wail as it was spun around before tumbling off the post.

The boys doubled over in laughter.

"Did ja see that?!"

"Great aim, Dud!"

"Did ja see it running away all funny-like after I hit it?!"

"I bet you broke the dumb thing's leg!"

"Serves the bloody thing right!" Dudley nodded as his laughter died down.

Piers thought he saw a wicked gleam come into his friend's eyes as he turned around and started heading back toward the park.

"Where you going? Figg's house is that way!"

"Never mind that. I've got an idea."

They reentered the park and started wandering around. Dudley was obviously looking for something. Piers realized what it was when he saw Potter.

"What's your cousin doing?" he asked. As they watched, Potter was moving about in some sort of fast-paced, acrobatic dance while twirling a long, smooth stick by one end. "He some sort of ballerina now?"

"Who cares," Dudley replied. "This'll take the _freak_ down a peg."

A cold pit of fear settled in Piers' stomach as he watched Dudley load another pebble into the slingshot. They never had managed to catch Potter in any of their sessions of Harry hunting. The kid had just gotten too fast. But Piers also remembered seeing him leap over that wall. He wasn't sure what hitting him with the slingshot would do.

"You sure about this?"

Dudley glared at him.

"What? You in love with the _freak_ now?"

"No! But what if he tells?"

"Who's he gonna tell? My parents hate him, all the teachers think he's a cheat, and none of the other kids can stand him."

"But…"

"Shut up, Piers. I'm gonna nail him."

Piers clicked his mouth shut and watched as Dudley took aim. Potter was oblivious to it all, merely continuing to go through his dance, swinging his stick like it was a ninja sword.

Dudley let the stone fly, and they watched it go. There was a loud _clack!_ as it connected with Potter's stick as he sung it around, seemingly just another part of the dance, and the stone flew off into the trees.

"No way," Dudley said.

"That had to be an accident." Piers added.

"There's no way he did that on purpose. No one could hit something that fast."

"He wasn't even looking."

"Accident. Had to be."

"Try another one."

Again, Dudley took aim and fired.

Again, as Potter's movements flowed into another step, he swung the stick and batted the pebble out of the air.

"What the _hell_?!"

"How's he doing that?"

"Give me that thing!"

Dudley handed the slingshot back to Piers, who loaded it and took aim.

He shot.

Harry effortlessly swatted the stone away.

"Let me try again," Dudley said.

They spent the next several minutes shooting pebbles at Potter, who in turn gracefully knocked each one away with his stick.

"This is ridiculous!" Dudley cried. "Let's try getting closer."

"But he'll see us!"

"Like he bloody well hasn't already."

They stalked forward and stood out in the open, less than thirty feet from Harry.

"Dud, you might really hurt him if you hit him from this close…"

"That'll serve the _freak_ well!"

Piers watched as Dudley shot another stone. He saw Potter spin around faster than he'd ever seen anyone move before. The stick swung out to meet the stone with a loud _clack_!

And then there was a soft _thud_ as the pebble flew back and struck Dudley right in the center of his chest.

"Gah!" the large boy cried as he fell to the ground. Tears were starting to form in the corners of his eyes. "Ow! That freaking hurt!"

Piers turned to look at Potter. His eyes widened as he saw that the black-haired boy was standing completely motionless, his stick raised in front of him, as if he was waiting for another attack to come.

The cold knot of fear twisted inside Piers' stomach as he noted the calm but serious look in Potter's eyes.

"Let's get out of here!" he cried to Dudley as he quickly turned around and fled from the park as fast as he could. He didn't even glance back to see if his large friend managed to keep up.

* * *

 **AN: What do you think?**

 **Get used to the time skips. They're going to be a frequent storytelling tool in this work. I figure they provide a means to get the important scenes across without having to rehash all of canon – that's been done before. I figure that if you're reading Harry Potter fan fiction, you're already familiar enough with the basic plot to understand what's going on without me showing you all the familiar beats. If you get confused as the story goes forward, leave me a question in a review.**

 **Speaking of reviews, please leave one on your way out. I'd like to know what you think.**

 **And thanks for reading!**


	3. III

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

OoOoO

Holocron

III

 _Tuesday, June 13, 1989_

Petunia Dursley stood outside and marveled at her beautiful lawn and garden. The grass was dark green and thick. The hedges were perfectly trimmed and shaped. Not a single weed was to be seen anywhere. And her rose bushes… so lush, and seemingly bursting with beautiful flowers. She was the envy of the entire neighborhood.

And it was all spoiled because she knew it was due to the boy's ever-growing _freakishness_!

He was perfectly polite, always calm, even when Vernon was flying into one of his rages. He was diligent in his care for his chores, even if he somehow managed to finish them in no time at all.

She could barely stand him.

He had somehow managed to taint even her ability to enjoy her garden. Couldn't the little _freak_ just leave her in peace? She quietly cursed the day that her sister—

Petunia quickly averted her thoughts from that direction. No need to dredge up old miseries.

"Aunt Petunia?"

She cringed as the boy's voice reached her.

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to ask you about, well, about my… cupboard…"

"You're lucky we let you sleep under our roof at all, you little _freak_!" She growled as she spun to look at him. She was about to continue laying into him, but was caught off guard by the intensity she saw in his striking, green eyes. Suddenly she felt unsure of herself and more than a little confused.

"Aren't I a bit old to be sleeping in such a small space?"

Petunia blinked at him. What was he trying to do, patronize her?

"Of course you're too old to be sleeping in a cupboard! What kind of question is that?"

The boy kept his unblinking gaze locked onto her as he spoke again.

"Wouldn't it be easier for you if I had my own, proper bedroom?"

Petunia quickly shook her head. Why was the boy asking such obvious questions?

"Of course it would be easier for me if you had your own room! Go clean out Dudley's second bedroom right this minute! I want that room clean as a whistle before you even think about starting on dinner!"

Her nephew nodded at her.

"Whatever you say, Aunt Petunia."

"Don't just stand there gawking, boy. Get to it!"

She watched as he scampered into the house to do as he was told. Vernon and Dudley wouldn't like it very much, but the _freak_ having his own room really would be much easier for her. Maybe it would help keep his unnaturalness contained…

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Saturday, April 28, 1990_

Piers fought down his sense of dread as he looked at the pile on the ground in front of him. He shared a nervous glance with Malcom and Gordon before turning his attention back to Dudley.

"Right," Dudley said, "this should be enough to finally let us get the _freak_."

"Umm…" Malcom started, "you sure about this, Dud? Wouldn't it be easier if we just… well… left him alone?"

"Left him alone?!" Dudley cried. "You can't be serious!"

Malcom quickly tried to backpedal.

"I mean… it's just… we never get one over on him! And you've seen what he can do! There's a reason not even the teachers want anything to do with him."

"My mum says he's cursed," Gordon added. "A devil's child."

"All the more reason for us to hit him _hard_!" Dudley argued.

"I don't know, Dud…" Malcom wavered.

"Don't tell me you're gonna chicken out, Malcom. Or maybe I should start calling you Nancy."

"Piss off, you wanker! I'm no Nancy boy!"

"That means you're in then."

"Fine!"

"Right," Dudley brought their attention back to the pile before them. "We've got four slingshots, one for each of us, plenty of stones. Wear the cricket helmets and stuff one of the pillows up your shirt for when he starts hittin' 'em back at us."

"I nicked these from my dad's woodshop," Gordon added as he dropped four sets of protective goggles on the pile. "Don't wanna lose an eye…"

"Good thinking," Dudley continued. "Now here's the plan. We gear up, and sneak up on him in the park. But don't get too close. When I give the signal, we all shoot at the same time, and then keep shooting until you run out of rocks. Then we book it back here afterwards."

Piers didn't really like the so-called plan. Potter had just gotten weirder and weirder over the years, and Dudley kept on insisting that they mess with him. He just knew that this was going to end badly.

"Ready?" Dudley asked.

"Ready," Gordon and Malcom responded.

Piers hesitantly nodded his head.

They quickly grabbed their stuff and made off for their target.

They found Potter on the far side of the park in a field that saw little real use. It was too small for footie or cricket, and the playground equipment was on the other side of the little stream. Besides, everyone in town knew that the _freak_ liked to spend his time there dancing and swinging his staff around, or sitting on the ground talking to himself, and no one wanted to be around the strange kid.

Potter was sitting with his legs crossed beneath him, his staff resting across his knees. His eyes were closed, which let the gang sneak up on him unseen.

Piers glanced at Dudley once they were in position before readying his slingshot. His heart was pounding in his chest as the familiar knot of fear twisted in his guts. This was a bad idea…

"NOW!" Dudley shouted.

Before they could get their first shots off, Potter had already rolled backwards and pushed off the ground with his hands, vaulting his body into the air. He gracefully rotated around in midair before landing on his feet, the wooden staff already a blur of motion.

The first volley of stones raced toward him. Potter merely stepped away from two of them, and the others were met by the staff and sent rebounding off in opposite directions.

Piers readied another stone and fired again as quickly as he could. It was difficult to aim with Potter moving so fast.

They kept up their hail of stones for several minutes and an uneven staccato rhythm of sharp _cracks_ filled the air as Potter effortlessly defended himself.

"Spread out!" Dudley eventually shouted. "Hit him from the sides! Let's see him beat that!"

They did as they were told, spreading out while trying to keep up their rate of fire. It seemed like it might be successful as Potter looked like he was working harder than ever before.

Piers jerked back in surprise as something whistled through the air and bounced off his helmet. He shook off his fear and fired again, only to be struck in the chest an instant later. Potter wasn't playing around. He was now sending almost every stone right back at them.

He shot again and then winced in pain as his next pebble came back to strike him in his unprotected shoulder.

"Get closer!" Dudley yelled.

Piers took careful aim as he dragged his feet closer to the _freak_. He could see sweat pouring down the other boy's face as he continued to dodge and slash out with his staff. His movements seemed a little less graceful now, a little sloppier. He was getting tired.

He let his stone fly and watched as it slipped past Potter's defenses. The dark-haired boy winced as it struck him in the side, but he kept fighting.

But the attackers were too close, and they'd all just seen that their target wasn't invincible after all. Another stone hit Potter in the knee and made him stumble. A third struck his hand and he cried out as he dropped the staff.

"We've got you now, _FREAK_!" Dudley yelled in triumph.

Piers watched as Potter dropped to the ground and rolled to the side. He sprang up to his knees and then thrust both his hands forward.

And then Piers felt something _big_ smash into his chest and lift him off his feet. He watched the sky and the ground spin around before his eyes. And then he slammed down into the ground.

He groaned at the ache in his chest and felt his eyes water from the sharp pain that was lancing up through his leg from a twisted ankle. He quickly looked around and saw that all three of his friends were sprawled out on the ground just like he was.

Malcom quickly curled up into a ball and started openly crying with loud wails.

Dudley was slowly trying to pick himself up, but kept stumbling and falling.

Gordon was scrambling away on all fours.

Piers turned his head and locked gazes with Potter. The staff was back in his hands, held by one end in readiness before him. Sweat ran down his face and dripped off his chin. His mouth was set in a thin line. Piers looked into green eyes and felt the knot of fear in his stomach explode.

He scrambled to his feet and ran away as fast as his sprained ankle would let him.

 _Screw Dudley!_ he thought as he ran. _I've got better things to do than mess with a kid that can do THAT!_

OoOoO

OoOoO

Harry paused outside the front door of Number Four, Privet Drive. He closed his eyes and reached out into the Force. He felt his aunt in the kitchen, cleaning up the remains of dinner. His uncle was in the living room watching the telly. Dudley was nowhere near.

He quietly slipped into the house and sent a soft nudge of the Force into the far corner of the living room to keep his uncle distracted. A burst of energy brought him to the top of the stairs and he quickly shut himself inside his room. Only then did he let out his nervous breath.

Dudley's ambushes, while infrequent, had steadily grown bolder over the past two years. Fending off all four of them, armed as they were with slingshots and protective gear had been hard, but also exhilarating. He had never felt as close to the living Force as he had that afternoon, spinning and dodging, striking out with the staff, his every movement obedient to the Energy that flowed through him. It had been like he was truly one with the Force.

At least until his concentration slipped and Piers hit him in the side.

Harry rubbed the bruise on his sore ribs as he leaned the wooden broom handle that he used for practice into the corner. His bleeding knuckles also hurt, but he paid them little mind as he knew nothing was broken.

His mind went back to the ambush. Moving like that… the Force had felt so _alive_. And powerful. When he had realized he was in trouble and had _pushed_ out against his attackers… He'd never felt anything like that before.

And his powers were still developing, still growing. Master Isu said so.

He was giddy thinking about what he might eventually be able to do if he kept this up. Dudley would never be a problem for him again.

He sat down on the bed with his legs folded beneath him. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath before stretching out with his senses. He kept part of his awareness on his relatives as they went about their boring routines, just in case they decided to bother him, but focused on the loose floorboard under the window.

Slowly, under Harry's careful guidance, it popped up from the floor, and floated away, beginning to orbit around him in a lazy circle. Blue light poured out from the opening a moment before the Holocron rose into the room.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he fought to maintain his concentration. Moving more than one object at a time was difficult, but he knew that the only way to get better was through practice.

Wisps of fog trailed behind the cube as it came to a rest floating in front of Harry's face, and then the holographic figure winked into existence. He opened his eyes and greeted the image.

"Master Isu."

 _Young Harry. How goes your training?_

"I had quite the day today."

 _Oh really? Tell me what you experienced._

He spent the next several minutes recounting each and every moment of the ambush that his cousin had sprung upon him. He couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face as he related what it felt like to flow with the Force as he used the patterns of his familiar kata to defend himself. He related how his focus had slipped, and that he was pelted with three stones and even dropped his staff. But he laughed at what came next.

"You should have seen it! I pushed the Force at them, any they all flew through the air like they were nothing. The babies ran away crying!"

 _You were right to defend yourself, but you must not take such glee in defeating your opponents. That path leads to the dark side._

"Oh come on! I'm not allowed to have a bit of fun while I send my bully of a cousin running?"

 _Fun is well and good, but a Jedi should find little enjoyment in the necessity of violence. A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never to attack. To find amusement in fighting, and to hold onto and to savor that feeling, is to start along the road of looking for violence. From there it is but a short path to the dark side and destruction._

"I don't understand. What's the dark side?"

 _Fear, anger, aggression, and hatred - when they are embraced they lead to the corruption of the dark side of the Force. It seduces with temptations of power easily gained and frightfully wielded. But it brings with it decay of both the body and the soul, and leaves nothing but suffering in its wake. A Jedi must always be wary of temptations to the dark side, temptations to the quick and easy path that leads to naught but sorrow and misery._

"That doesn't sound good."

 _Indeed it does not. That is why you have been taught to release your negative emotions, your anger and fear and the like, into the Force. That they might not fester within you and seduce you to your destruction and the destruction of all those around you._

"Oh."

 _So too you must rid yourself of the joy you find in defeating an enemy. Violence is often unavoidable, but to find pleasure therein is forbidden to you. It is in little things, such as this, that the seduction of the dark side begins._

 _Now, release those feelings into the Force and be free of their temptation._

Harry breathed out slowly and called upon the now familiar state of mind. He gathered up the feelings of joy and pleasure that he felt at defeating Dudley, at striking back at his cousin's gang with their own weapons, at lashing out with the Force and putting them down and out of the fight. He held those feelings in the forefront of his mind, and then he invited the Force to flow through him more fully. It was like a river with a strong and steady current. It was always present, but now simply more so. He released his hold on the unwanted feelings as he had been taught, and felt them slip away into the stream until they were borne away and were no more.

He opened his eyes and looked at the tiny image of Master Isu.

"It's done."

 _Good. Today you have triumphed over your first temptation to the dark side. But do not rejoice, for more shall surely come. You must be ever vigilant. A Jedi's most important task is to know himself above all. You must know your weaknesses and temptations that you might not be seduced to your own destruction and to the suffering of many._

OoOoO

 **AN: What do you think?**

 **Thanks for your reviews. And thanks for reading!**


	4. IV

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

IV

 _Wednesday, July 24, 1991_

Harry was awakened early in the morning by a strange feeling. He didn't know what it was exactly. The world just felt… off. He sat up into his familiar position for mediation and stretched his feelings out into the Force. The Energy that swirled around him and flowed through him felt agitated. It wasn't really a bad thing, just something different, something new.

He tilted his head to the side and the loose floorboard flew up from under the window. It was immediately followed by the Holocron which came to float in front of Harry. Soon he was gazing at the tiny form of a Jedi Master from long ago.

"Master Isu."

 _Young Harry._

"Something feels off today."

 _How so?_

"Can't you feel it?"

The little figure actually smiled.

 _Harry, must I remind you that I am not really Jedi Master Isu Sotr? I am a Holocron. My access to the Force is limited. I am not truly alive and I cannot feel the Force as you do._

"Oh. Right. Well, err… I just woke up and the Force feels… strange. Agitated. But I can't sense a reason for it."

 _Ah. What you describe was generally known as a 'Disturbance in the Force' by most Jedi. A portent of unknown origin. It could be a warning, a consequence of something that has already taken place, the presence of another Force-user nearby, or any number of other things. But unless the Force reveals more to you, I am afraid that there is little that you can do about it. I would recommend that you go about your day as normal, but be aware of your surroundings and keep your focus on the Force._

"Yes, Master."

Harry guided the Holocron back to its hiding place and pulled the floorboard over to cover the opening. He also pulled his chair and one of his old school books out of their orbits around him and settled them back into their places.

His longer meditation sessions tended to leave him with a rather messy room.

Harry got up and went about getting ready for the day, which soon found him at the kitchen table eating breakfast with his relatives. Dudley glared hatefully at him as he chewed the bacon that Harry had prepared. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia simply ignored him. He'd settled into an unspoken truce with his aunt and uncle over the past few years – he did his chores as expected and caused as little disturbance around the house as possible, and they largely pretended that he wasn't there.

It was highly preferable to the days of constant yelling and being roughly tossed about. He knew that their change of heart was motivated somewhat by his subtle use of the Force to influence a few of their decisions in some very minor ways, but they acted as they did mostly out of fear. They were afraid of him. He tried to hide his Jedi training from them, but it was impossible for them not to notice something over the years. And what they had seen made them afraid.

Harry was fine with that.

He had just taken his plate to the sink when he heard the mail fall through the slot in the front door, so he went over to collect it. When he bent down to pick up the pile of letters, he felt the disturbance in the Force grow stronger. He hesitated, but then continued. He looked through the pile and found a strange envelope addressed to him personally.

He brought the rest of the mail into the kitchen and placed it on the table next to his aunt, all the while studying his odd letter and the momentous disruption it caused in the Force. He flipped it over and saw that the flap was sealed with purple wax bearing the faint impression of a coat of arms.

"Mum!" Dudley shouted. "The _freak_ 's got a letter!"

Harry looked up to see his aunt go rigid and his uncle grow red in the face. Although neither said a word or moved to take the letter from him.

Dudley looked sorely disappointed at his parents' lack of more dramatic reactions.

Harry went back to the envelope and quickly tore it open. There were two pieces of strange paper inside, the first was what looked like a form letter written in bright green ink and addressed to him.

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

 _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

 _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

 _Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Mr/Ms. Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Minerva McGonagall_

 _Deputy Headmistress_

Odd. Witchcraft and wizardry? That… kind of made sense. Master Isu had said that many people on isolated worlds thought that the Force was magic until they made contact with the wider galaxy and learned otherwise. Maybe he wasn't the only Jedi on earth after all.

The second page was a list of needed books and school supplies that he was supposed to get at someplace called 'Diagon Alley.'

Harry looked up at his relatives again. They hadn't moved an inch and were all staring at him.

"Aunt Petunia, do you know anything about a school called Hogwarts?"

Uncle Vernon looked like he wanted to explode, but he kept his jaw tightly clamped shut. Aunt Petunia turned a little green and looked like she swallowed something particularly nasty, but she eventually answered the question.

"I knew we'd never rid you of that unnatural _freakishness_! So it's come then. Good. We'll be glad to be rid of you. You can go off with your own horrid kind!"

With that she stood from the table and marched out of the kitchen. Uncle Vernon quickly followed her.

Harry shrugged and left as well, heading up to his room. The disturbance in the Force had to be about him going to Hogwarts. It was trying to tell him that this was really important. And if it truly was his chance to meet other Jedi, he couldn't pass it up. Maybe he could even meet some other kids like him. Maybe even make some friends…

He sat down at the rickety old desk in his room and pulled out a sheet of lined notebook paper and a ballpoint pen.

 _Dear Mrs. McGonagall,_ he wrote.

But then he stopped.

 _How do I know she's a 'Mrs.'?_ he asked himself.

He looked back at his letter. Her title was Deputy Headmistress. Maybe he should address her as 'Mistress'? Was that weird? He looked to the top of the letter – it was addressed to him as 'Mr/Ms. Potter'. Maybe he'd go with that just to be safe. He pulled out a new sheet of paper and started again.

 _Dear Mr/Ms. McGonagall,_

 _Thank you for your letter about going to school at Hogwarts. It sounds like fun and I will be happy to attend._

He tapped his chin with his pen as he thought about what to write next. This was the first time he'd ever written a letter after all, he wanted to do it right. Then he remembered the shopping list.

 _I was wondering if you could tell me where Diagon Alley is? I've never heard of it before and my relatives don't want anything to do with magic._

He thought for a while longer, but couldn't come up with anything else to say. So much for being impressive with his first letter.

 _I look forward to meeting you on 1 September._

 _Yours,_

 _Harry Potter_

He looked back at the letter for a mailing address, but didn't find anything. Nor was there a return address on the envelope.

"How'm I supposed to mail this to them without an address?" he asked aloud. He looked back at the letter.

 _We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

"My owl?" He was supposed to reply by bird? Where was he supposed to get an owl?

Just then there was a _tap_ at his window. He looked over to see a large, brown owl perched on the window sill.

"Huh."

He went over and opened the window. The owl stared at him and he stared right back. The bird felt strange in the Force, unlike any other animal that he'd ever come across.

"Err… I guess you're here to take my letter?"

The owl clicked its beak in response.

"I don't suppose you have an envelope I could use?"

It just looked at him.

"Right."

He went back to his desk and folded his newly drafted letter in thirds before using a piece of tape to seal it closed. Then he wrote ' _Minerva McGonagall_ ' on the outside. He turned back to the owl that was waiting at his window and held out the letter.

"Here you go."

The bird _clicked_ again, but carefully grasped the paper with its beak. It then took off into the sky without further ceremony. As soon as the owl left the disturbance in the Force that he had been feeling all morning quieted down. He watched the bird fly away until it disappeared in the distance.

"And people think I'm weird…"

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Thursday, July 25, 1991_

Harry was sitting on the grass in the park, quietly resting after going through a few of the Jedi katas he had learned. He felt a presence coming toward him and reached out in search of his cousin, wondering if the boy had another attack planned. Dudley would never learn…

But the presence didn't feel like Dudley. Or like anyone else he knew. The mystery was solved a moment later when an owl landed next to him. It was different from the one that came the day before, but it had a rolled-up piece of paper tied to its leg.

"Er… That's for me, I guess?"

The bird just blinked at him.

He reached out and untied the string. As soon as he had removed the roll of paper, the owl took off and flew away. Harry shrugged and turned to his new letter.

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _I'm afraid that I must apologize for my oversight in your regard. I should have remembered that you were being raised by your Muggle relatives who would not be able to get you to Diagon Alley. However, I have the shopping excursion for our new Muggle-born students scheduled for this coming Saturday, and I would be happy to add you to the list. Besides, this might be a good opportunity for you to meet some of your future classmates._

 _I shall arrive at your house promptly at ten in the morning. Please be ready to depart._

 _Yours Sincerely,_

 _Prof. McGonagall._

"Well, I guess that takes care of that."

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Saturday, July 27, 1991_

Harry was sitting on the front steps of Number Four as he patiently waited for ten o'clock to arrive. He thought it would be best if _Professor_ McGonagall (as he now knew to be her correct title) had as little interaction with his relatives as possible. If the Force was with him, she'd be willing to leave without introductions.

Harry was curious as to exactly _how_ a magic professor would arrive at his house. Would she drive a car? Fly on a broomstick? Swoop in on the back of a giant owl? Walk? The possibilities were endless in his mind.

Suddenly the Force exploded in agitation around him. His eyes widened and he vaulted to his feet, his muscles tense and ready to fight or flee from whatever was happening.

An instant later, a loud _crack_ resounded, and a woman appeared out of thin air. She was wearing a skirt that fell almost to the ground as well as a matching suit jacket, both patterned in tartan plaid. A pair of glasses were perched on her nose, and her dark hair was pulled back into a severe bun. A look of stern authority was seemingly etched onto her face. She regarded him with a quick nod of her head.

"Mr. Potter, I presume?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"It is good to see that you are punctual. Shall we speak with your relatives?"

"Err… do we have to?"

"Do they not wish to accompany you today?"

"Umm… I think they want as little to do with magic as possible. They say it's unnatural."

"I see. Well, pay that sentiment no mind, Mr. Potter. Magic is perfectly normal."

"Okay."

"Now then, grab a hold of my arm, and I shall Apparate us to the others."

"Apparate?"

"The act of disappearing from one place and instantly reappearing in another. It is how I just arrived here."

"Oh."

"Although I must warn you, the sensation is quite… uncomfortable. But you will grow used to it."

Harry shrugged and reached out for her arm. The Force cried out again, but then he was being squeezed through a tiny tube… and then it was over. And he was somewhere else.

The Force felt all jumbled around for a moment, and it made him nauseous and a bit dizzy. He bent over with his hands on his knees and sucked in huge gulps of air as he fought to keep his breakfast down.

He decided then and there that he did _not_ like Apparating.

"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked. "I know that most people find Apparition to be less than pleasant the first time around, but your reaction is stronger than most. Do you need to lie down?"

"Just give me a minute," he replied as he slowly regained his bearings.

He eventually grew aware of a great number of people nearby, and many of them had presences that shone strongly in the Force. He looked around to see that he was standing in a dark and dingy pub if some sort. The professor quickly led him over to a corner where there was already a small gathering of people.

There were four boys that were near Harry's age all staring wide-eyed at the strangely dressed patrons of the pub. Behind them were a few cautious-looking adults that did not seem to share in the children's sense of wonder.

McGonagall cleared her throat before speaking to the group.

"Might I introduce Mr. Harry Potter? Mr. Potter, these are some of your classmates. Messrs. Terry Boot, Kevin Entwistle, Just Finch-Fetchley, and Dean Thomas. Please wait here for just one more moment, as I have one final student to collect."

Again there was another _crack_ and McGonagall disappeared.

Harry shuddered.

"That wasn't very fun," he said.

"No it wasn't," the dark-skinned boy named Dean replied.

"Felt like I was being squeezed through a bloody garden hose!" Kevin something-or-other said.

"Kevin!" the tall woman behind the boy admonished with a less-than-gentle tap to his head. "Mind that filthy mouth of yours!"

Their brief attempt at small talk was interrupted by several of the pub's patrons wandering over.

"Did I hear correctly? Is this really Harry Potter?"

"Blimey, Gill, I think it is!"

"Well bless my soul!"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter, a pleasure and an honor!"

Harry had no idea what was going on and it was making him nervous. He'd never been treated like this in his life. People tended to avoid him if anything, not fight over each other to shake his hand. But here they were, crowding around him, all trying to say something or even reach out and touch him.

Things were starting to get a bit out of hand when Harry felt the Force stir in agitation once again. He sighed in relief.

Another _crack_ resounded and McGonagall was soon pushing her way through the crowd, followed by a girl and a woman, both of whom had the same bushy brown hair.

"I should have thought that something like this would happen. Back away if you please! All of you! Mr. Potter is certainly not here to sign autographs! Leave the boy be!"

McGonagall's stern demeanor and commanding voice soon scattered the crowd.

"Now then," she continued, "May I introduce Miss Hermione Granger? Miss Granger, these are Messrs. Boot, Entwhistle, Finch-Fetchley, Potter, and Thomas. Together, you are the new Muggle-born and Muggle-raised students of Hogwarts."

"What's a Muggle?" Harry asked.

"A person without the use of magic, of course," the girl named Hermione answered. "It was in the information packet."

"That is correct, Miss Granger. However, due to an oversight, Mr. Potter did not receive a copy of the orientation packet." McGonagall turned to Harry. "Feel free to ask any questions you would like, Mr. Potter. That goes for everyone else as well."

Harry saw the bushy-haired woman lean down to admonish Hermione.

"Don't preempt your professors like that, Hermione."

"I was just being helpful," the girl replied.

"The other students won't see it that way. They'll think you're a know-it-all."

"No they won't. This is a fresh start."

"Just mind your behavior, Hermione."

Harry felt kind of bad that the girl had gotten in trouble just for answering a question. He glanced over at the professor again. When he saw that she was giving a few final directions to the adults, he decided to introduce himself to her.

"Hi, I'm Harry," he said.

"Hermione," she replied while shaking his offered hand. "Did you really not get a copy of the orientation packet?"

"I guess not."

"That's just not fair. I suppose I could mail you mine if you'd like. I've already read through it ten times. Besides, we're likely to stop at a bookshop today. I'm sure I'll find some much more thorough sources of information there."

"Err… sure. That'd be great. If you're sure you don't need it anymore…"

The girl smiled brightly at him.

"Not at all! I'm happy to help!"

They chatted for a few moments, but Harry's attention was only partially on the conversation. The rest of his awareness was reaching out with his senses to get a feel for those around him in the Force. The parents in their little group felt just like everyone else that Harry had ever come across. But the children, as well as Professor McGonagall, all shone brightly in the Force. A smile slowly spread across his face.

He knew it. He couldn't wait to start at a school filled with so many Jedi!

* * *

 **AN: Next stop: Hogwarts!**

 **What do you think?**

 **After responding to some reviews and private messages, I've decided to create a forum for** _ **Holocron**_ **in much the same vein as I did for** _ **HP & KoRH**_ **. Every once in a while I'll probably post something that might be of interest to you if you're following the story, or if you care about my head-canon regarding Star Wars or Harry Potter in general. I've already posted two things - some of my thoughts about Jedi philosophy that you might find interesting, and a few ruminations about the Dursleys and the manner in which JKR wrote the** _ **Harry Potter**_ **series. There's a link in my profile. Check it out! Or don't. You're free to do as you like after all.**

 **Fun Fact: did you know that 'dark side' as in 'the dark side of the Force' is not capitalized? Apparently the official sources went back and forth on whether it was the 'dark side' or the 'Dark Side' in the 80's and 90's until they eventually settled on lowercase in 1996. So I went back through everything I've written and hopefully corrected that.**

 **After some suggestions, I've also gone back and tweaked the story summary a bit. Summaries might be the most difficult thing about writing fanfiction. Your story might be pure gold, but if you can't write a good summary that gets people to read it, it's all for naught. If you have any suggestions for the summary, let me know in a review.**

 **Special thanks goes to wacct3 on the HPfanfiction subreddit who both pointed out the above-mentioned capitalization error AND helped in revising the summary. You get an Internet-Force-cookie.**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	5. V

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

V

 _Sunday, September 1, 1991_

Harry dragged his trunk into one of the many empty compartments on the Hogwarts Express. His uncle had dropped him off at King's Cross Station over an hour early. His relatives were rather eager to be rid of him for an entire year, so he found himself to likely be the first student to board the train.

He rummaged through his new school trunk and pulled out a few books before lifting the heavy box onto the overhead rack. He sat down into one of the seats, put the books next to him so that he'd have something to read during the journey, and settled in to wait. As had become his habit, he closed his eyes and reached out into the Force. There were only a few other people that he could sense on the train, and none of them were nearby. He decided to spend some time in meditation.

He opened his mind to the warmth of the Force and let it fill him and flow through him. He let his awareness drift on the gentle current, and was led outward, into the world around him.

There were so many people in King's Cross. So many lives busily hurrying about, to and fro. Each and every one added something to the energy and life of the Force that was all around them, even if they might never know it. Most left gentle ripples in their wake. A few stirred up great waves of destiny that flowed out into the distance. But each life left a mark. Most of the people had a rather muted Force-presence, but a few here and there shone with splendor as they passed through.

The Force was heavy with the emotions of the many people gathered in that one place. Train stations were places of excited greetings and sad goodbyes, and as it was early on a Sunday morning, it seemed like the sadness of departure was the overwhelming feeling at the moment. But the ever-present Energy did not weep because loved ones were parted from each other, and neither did Harry lament their sorrow, because nothing was ever very far away in the Force, it bound all of creation together. There was no such thing as separation, there was the Force.

There were other beings that could be sensed the current of the Force as well. Little rodents scurried around searching for food. Insects darted about, hardly aware of their own actions. Birds flew overhead. The trains hummed with massive reserves of potential energy just waiting to be unleashed. Even the steel and the concrete of the building itself added a trickle of unique quality to the Power that ebbed and flowed through the station.

It all summed up to a great and beautiful symphony of Life and Strength and Truth that thrummed through Harry's mind. He found himself letting go of his desire to control his senses and instead wanting to cast himself adrift in the Music of the Force.

"How're you doing that?"

Harry opened his eyes and let his awareness slide back into his compartment on the train. He blinked for a moment and then noticed the red-headed boy standing in the doorway.

"Oh. Err… Hello."

"Oh yeah," the other boy said, "I'm Ron. Ron Weasley. How're you doing that with your books?"

Harry glanced around in confusion and saw that his books were floating in mid-air, slowly moving around him in circles.

"Oh, that. Sorry," he said as he reached out with his mind and pulled them back into a stack on the seat next to him, "things have a tendency to do that when I meditate. I'm Harry by the way."

Ron made a strange face at Harry's answer before speaking again.

"Pleased to meet you. Mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full."

"Come on in."

Harry watched as his new companion stowed his trunk and then sat across from him. He was then struck by something that didn't make sense. "How can everywhere be full already?"

"What're you on about? The train's about to push off. Mum barely got us here in time."

"Oh." Harry realized that he must have been meditating for a lot longer than he thought.

The train jerked into motion beneath them, and Harry smiled as his journey to Hogwarts truly began.

"Are you a first year too?" he asked.

"Yeah. Although I've got three brothers ahead of us. Percy's a fifth-year and he just made prefect. And the twins, Fred and George, are in third year. All in Gryffindor, of course."

"That's one of the four houses, right? I read about those."

"Yeah. Us Weasleys are always in Gryffindor. Bill says it's because of the hair," Ron reached up to pinch a lock of the red mess on top of his head for emphasis.

"Who's Bill?"

"Oldest brother."

"How many brothers do you have?"

Ron tilted his head as if he was counting for a moment.

"Five," he finally said. "Plus me makes six. And then there's Ginny, she's the only girl. She'll be starting next year."

"Seven children?"

"Yeah, it's great most of the time. At least when Fred and George aren't terrorizing me. Always someone around to play Quidditch with."

"Sounds like fun. But what's Quidditch?"

Ron just stared at him in disbelief for a moment.

"You don't know what _Quidditch_ is?!"

"No… Should I?"

"But… How… Okay. Let me explain. Quidditch is just about the best thing ever…"

OoOoO

OoOoO

They were well into the trip and Ron had expounded on the virtues of the Chudley Cannons multiple times when they heard three quick knocks followed by their door sliding open. Harry instantly recognized the bushy, brown hair of Hermione Granger.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost his. Oh, hi Harry."

"Hello, Hermione," Harry smiled and gave a little wave. "Sorry, haven't seen any toads."

"You two know each other?" Ron asked.

"We met at the orientation in Diagon Alley. I'm Hermione Granger," she said as she stepped into the compartment.

"Ron Weasley," he said as he shook her offered hand.

Hermione sat down next to Harry and turned to face him.

"Did you know that you're rather famous?" she asked.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, what would he be famous for?" Ron added.

"For defeating You-Know-Who apparently," Hermione answered.

"WHAT?!" Ron shouted.

Harry just felt confused.

"It says so in _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ ," Hermione continued. "You're also in _Modern Magical History_ , and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ , and probably loads more but those are the only books that mentioned you that I've read so far."

"You're Harry _Potter_?!" Ron exclaimed.

"Err… yes?" he answered.

" _The_ Harry Potter?!"

"I guess so. I don't know any others. Why are you acting so weird all of a sudden?"

"You're basically the most famous person in the entire wizarding world," Hermione answered.

"That can't be true. I didn't even know anything about wizards and witches until a few weeks ago. How could I be famous?"

"You beat You-Know-Who as a baby!" Ron declared.

"I did what?"

"You really don't know?" Hermione asked. "I'd have found out everything if it was me."

"Would you just tell me already?!" Harry nearly shouted since he was getting a little exasperated at being the only one left out.

"Sorry," Hermione actually blushed a little bit before she started to explain. "It says in _Modern Magical History_ that You-Know-Who basically started a civil war in wizarding Britain sometime around 1970. Headmaster Dumbledore led the resistance, but You-Know-Who was actually winning until he decided to attack the home of James and Lily Potter on Halloween of 1981. No one knows exactly what happened, but he killed James and Lily, and then when he tried to cast the Killing Curse on you, something backfired and it destroyed him instead. _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ says that's why you've got that scar on your forehead, but _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ says such theories are just speculation…"

"Oh." Harry suddenly felt rather… vulnerable.

Hermione seemed to notice and started to fidget.

"Did I say something wrong?" she asked.

"No… it's just… I… My relatives always told me that my parents died in a car crash. I never knew that someone had… _murdered_ them…"

Hermione twitched like she wanted to reach out to him but had held herself in check.

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed causing both Harry and Hermione to jump a tiny bit in their seats. "That explains it! You're the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Now what are you talking about?" Harry asked.

"That's a title that most of the books have given you," Hermione was quick to answer. "No one's ever survived the Killing Curse before, so after you basically stopped the war single-handedly, everyone took to calling you the 'Boy-Who-Lived.'"

"Yeah, what _she_ said," Ron added after tossing a bit of a glare at the only girl in the compartment. "But I bet that's how you cast that Levitation Charm on all those books when I first came in. Everyone says that the Boy-Who-Lived must've had some wicked magic in order to beat You-Know-Who!"

"You already know how to cast a Levitation Charm?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"What? No! I told you, Ron, that that just kind of happens sometimes when I meditate. I think I kind of do it unconsciously."

"Looked like more than that to me," the other boy declared. "You must've had three or four books floating around in the air when I came in."

"Sounds like accidental magic to me," Hermione added. "I summoned a book I wanted off the top shelf when I was four, and I once exploded a lightbulb during a tantrum when I was six."

"Don't be daft!" Ron argued. "He's the Boy-Who-Lived. He probably already knows half the spells they're gonna teach us at Hogwarts."

"I'm right here, you know!" Harry interjected. "And I already told you that it happened while I was practicing a Jedi meditation technique. Sometimes my subconscious decides to float things about the room with the Force."

His statement was met with silence and confused looks from both Ron and Hermione.

"What are you on about?" Ron asked.

"What do you mean, 'Jedi meditation'?" Hermione added.

"You… you're not Jedi?" Harry asked in response.

"I'm a wizard, mate," Ron replied. "I'm not some sort of bloody _Jedi_!"

"Language!" Hermione admonished. "Although I've never heard of that either. There was no mention of anything like 'Jedi' in the orientation packet or in any of the books I've read."

"But you know about the Force, right? Hogwarts _has_ to teach us about the Force, right?"

"No one ever told me that the Boy-Who-Lived was nutters…" Ron mumbled.

Hermione shot a glare at the ginger boy.

"What exactly do you mean by the 'Force'?"

"The Force is an energy field created by all living things," Harry recited from memory, "It surrounds us, penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together. It's the source of a Jedi's power. It lends him strength and knowledge and guidance."

"Like I said, nutters," Ron said much louder this time.

"Oh, come off it, Ron!" Hermione admonished, "Harry is not crazy! He's just… I don't know, a little… confused about things…"

"But someone at Hogwarts has to know about the Force, right?" Harry asked. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

"Harry," Hermione said, "Hogwarts teaches _witchcraft_ and _wizardry_. It's a school of _magic_. I'm really not sure what you're talking about…"

"Oh."

Harry felt a deep sense of disappointment settle into his stomach.

"Are you sure you're not just, well, like I said, a little confused?"

"I…" Harry started to answer but suddenly couldn't find anything to say. The Force was _real_. The Jedi were _real_. He was sure of that, even if he'd never actually met another one. He wasn't confused. He wasn't crazy.

Was he?

Silence filled the compartment.

After a moment, it started to get awkward.

Hermione finally stood up.

"Well, I guess I better get back to helping Neville find his toad…" She looked a little hesitant, like she wanted to say or do something else. "I suppose I'll see you at the station then."

Harry gave a half-hearted wave. Ron just rolled his eyes and turned to stare out the window.

The door clicked shut behind Hermione and silence descended again. Ron didn't seem to want to talk any more.

Harry felt a familiar fear rising up within him. No one ever liked him. Everyone – his relatives, his teachers, even the other children – thought he was crazy, thought he was a _freak_ and stayed as far away from him as possible. He thought it would be different at Hogwarts, but now it was starting all over again.

He closed his eyes and reached for the Force. He gathered up his fear and his loneliness and released them into the strong but gentle current. Then he smiled. With the living Force coursing through him he _knew_ beyond any shadow of a doubt that he wasn't crazy. Who cared what Hermione and Ron had to say? They'd see once they got to Hogwarts. 'Magic' was just a primitive name for the Force. They'd see that he was right soon enough. He'd show them that he wasn't crazy.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Monday, September 16, 1991_

Harry felt like he was going crazy.

He grumbled as he stomped up to the portrait of the Fat Lady and snapped out the password. He quickly crossed through the Gryffindor common room without acknowledging anyone and headed for the first-year boys' dorm.

It had been over two weeks. Over _two weeks_! Sixteen bloody days! And still no one had heard of, or mentioned, or knew anything about anything to do with the Jedi or the Force.

Harry had cautiously asked around during the first few days. His classmates had thought he was joking at first, but then they started to watch him with guarded looks and would quickly stop their conversations whenever he came near. He'd only bothered to ask one professor about it, and McGonagall had quickly told him to stop fooling around and to move on to his next class. After that he'd decided to keep his questions to himself.

But now he wasn't so sure. He'd had an idea.

Harry marched into his empty dorm room and quickly shut the door behind him. He had his trunk open a moment later and he dug around at the bottom until he found a single, blue sock. He reached into it and pulled out a small crystal cube.

He sat down in the middle of his bed and opened his mind to the Force. He searched through the surrounding area. Fred, George, and Lee were in their room two floors below him. Otherwise, the dormitories were empty as most of his classmates were spending the afternoon outside in the still pleasant weather. He left part of his awareness in the spiral staircase – he didn't want anyone to walk in on him – but turned his focus to the Holocron in his hand.

It rose up to float in the air surrounded by a soft bed of fog. Blue light pulsed out once and then retracted to a steady glow. Harry greeted the alien figure when it appeared.

"Master Isu."

 _Young Harry._

"I have an idea."

 _And what is this idea?_

"Everyone here thinks I'm crazy. No one believes me about the Force."

 _Yes, you have told me as much._

"I mean, magic is pretty much the same thing! It just comes from inside instead of from outside like the Force."

 _So you have tried to explain to me before. But I am afraid that details of such a phenomenon are not located within my data matrices. Although there have been recorded instances of certain species and sects wielding the Force in different ways before…_

"Right. So magic is just a different way of using a different type of the Force."

 _Perhaps._

"No one wants to listen to me. But they'd _have_ to believe me if I could show them for themselves! So I had an idea. I could teach them. I could show someone how to reach out into the living Force. I could train them to be a Jedi, just like I've been doing! It wouldn't even be that hard. Everyone here just _shines_ with the Force like nowhere else. The castle is _brimming_ with it. It'll be easy!"

 _No, young Harry. This is something that you must not do._

"What? Why not?!"

 _You are not prepared to take on an apprentice. Teaching others about the Force and the Arts of the Jedi is a prerogative that is reserved to Jedi Masters. You are still but a learner._

"Oh come on!"

 _No. It is forbidden. You do not know the danger that would lie in such an endeavor. You must not start down this path, it will only lead to the dark side._

"Well, how about you teach someone then?"

 _I am afraid that is impossible. The limitations inherent in the nature of my construction negate any possibility of giving instruction to multiple apprentices at the same time. My emotional/relational memory capacitors do not have sufficient storage for me to engage in a long-term teaching relationship with more than one student at a time. I shall be unable to relate to another Jedi as I do with you until you have finished with me._

Harry groaned.

"There has to be a way!"

 _You must be patient, young Harry. Once you are truly a Jedi Master, you shall be able to take on an apprentice of your choosing._

"But that won't be for _years_!"

 _Of what concern is that? Concern yourself only with the will of the Force._

Harry sighed.

"Yes, master."

The tiny image of Master Isu Sotr winked out as Harry drew his attention away from the Holocron. He got up from the bed but stopped when he saw the state of the room. It was a complete mess. Everything had been moved about and was now strewn about the floor in total disarray.

Harry sighed again.

"I really need to learn to control what my subconscious does while I'm meditating…"

* * *

 **AN: So, I'm just going to assume that everyone reading this is already rather familiar with the canon of the** _ **Harry Potter**_ **series, and that we all know who the basic side characters are and what their relationships with Harry & Co. are like. So, I'm really not going to bother with writing a whole bunch of character introduction scenes to tell you what you already know. So, unless you read otherwise, just presume the status quo: Draco's still a ponce, Neville still has no self-esteem, Snape is still calling people dunder heads, etc. After all, does the world really need **_**another**_ **Draco-introduces-himself-on-the-train-and-is-a-jerk-about-it scene? I didn't think so.**

 **Several people have left reviews that amount to seeking clarification about the Holocron. In particular, a lot of these comments refer to 'Master Isu' instead of to the Holocron itself, and they tend to treat Master Isu as a character that will have agency in the story. I think this confusion arises from a lack of knowledge about Jedi Holocrons, which I admit, are a rather obscure piece of** _ **Star Wars**_ **trivia. So, I've written some background info and explanation about Holocrons and posted it in my forums. There's a link in my profile if you wish to check it out.**

 **Also, in response to a comment, I've written further explanation of what I think a real Jedi Philosophy should be like, it's a little longer and a bit more technical than my previous entry. If you're curious, it's been added to the 'Jedi Philosophy' thread in my forums. Again, link in my profile. Thanks to Leicontis and Ariadne Venegas for prompting the further discussion!**

 **What did you think?**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	6. VI

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

VI

 _Thursday, October 31, 1991_

Harry aimlessly wandered the hallways, his thoughts adrift. He had no desire to go to the Halloween feast in the Great Hall. He still didn't have any friends and probably never would. Most of the other students seemed content to gawk at him from across the common room or whisper when his back was turned. A few had approached him with questions, but they had either been trying to get him to talk about his scar and how he defeated You-Know-Who, or they were attempting to get him to admit that he really was crazy.

He spent most of his time alone either exploring the castle and its grounds or practicing the Jedi Arts in some secluded place away from prying eyes. His schoolwork was easy enough. The simple application of a few Force techniques meant that he could finish his assignments in no time whatsoever. He tended to do his work in the library, away from the stares and whispers of the Gryffindor common room. He often saw Hermione there as well, like him ensconced by herself at one of the many tables, doing her work amidst a pile of books. He sometimes felt her staring at him, but after their awkward encounter on the train, she never tried to approach him.

Maybe he could offer to help her with her assignments? It would be nice to have a friend, and she seemed a bit lonely herself. He took it that she was rather serious about her schoolwork, if her attempts to answer every single question in class were anything to go by, and she was always offering to help others as well. Not that she ever offered to help him, but then again, he was nearly always the first to be able to cast a new spell and he never had trouble with the assignments. Would she take it the wrong way if he offered to help her?

Harry paused in his wandering through the corridors as he felt a ripple of worry and fear permeate the Force. Something was wrong. Almost the entire population of the castle was suddenly on edge. He pondered the feeling for a few minutes before he turned to head to the Great Hall and hopefully find out what was going on.

But then an acute spike of sheer _terror_ pierced through the Force. Someone was in serious trouble.

And then he was moving before he even had a chance to think. Harry embraced the Force and let it flow into his muscles before taking off at a run faster than was humanly possible. He let the Force guide his path, and prayed that he would get there before it was too late.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were still red and puffy. She couldn't go to the feast looking like that. Her lip trembled at the thought and her tears threatened to spill over once again. Maybe she could just slip up to her dorm and hide behind the curtains of her four-poster now that everyone was likely in the Great Hall. That way she wouldn't have to see anyone. Especially _him_.

Ronald Weasley was such a… a _bloody brat_! There! She said it! Well, not out loud. Hermione Granger would never use such language out loud. But she'd thought it! And that had to count for something!

She had only been trying to be helpful. It wasn't her fault that he was so terrible at Charms. He didn't need to be so awful to her all the time, especially in front of all the others. She got that enough at home. So much for Hogwarts being different.

She had just turned to leave the lavatory when an awful stench reached her nose. She gaged.

"What is _that_?" she asked herself. Did one of the toilets backup and overflow?

Right. That did it. She'd not spend one minute more in that lavatory feeling sorry for herself. She'd go back to her room and go to bed and start again fresh in the morning. She turned to leave but stopped when the door swung open and a huge _thing_ bent over and lumbered through the doorway.

Once in the room it stood upright. It had to be over twelve feet tall. Grey skin covered its lumpy body from its flat, horny feet to its relatively small, misshapen head. It sported a huge nose that dripped with what looked like lumpy, grey glue. It's only clothing was a soiled and filthy loincloth, and it dragged an absolutely huge wooden club behind it.

Hermione just stared at the beast with an open mouth for a moment.

The troll stared right back at her, seemingly confused.

Then she screamed.

The troll apparently didn't like that.

It growled and yelled, and hefted its huge club to swing at her. Hermione had just enough presence of mind to dive out of the way before the club smashed into the row of sinks with a crash, sending bits of broken porcelain and masonry flying through the air.

Hermione crawled to the far corner of the room and curled up into a ball. The troll turned to face her with rage in its tiny, beady eyes.

And then the door swung open again and in stepped a boy with a messy mop of ginger hair.

"Hermione!" Ron called out as he entered, "You've got to come back to the common room, there's a troll in the… oh."

The troll turned its head back and forth between the two children. It apparently decided that Ron was the greater threat and moved to attack him.

Ron ducked as the club swung over his head and tore through one of the stalls with a thunderous crash. Water fountained up into the air from the ruined toilet within, and the room quickly began to flood.

"Bloody hell!" Ron cried as he ran about franticly. He didn't seem to have any better idea of what to do at the moment than Hermione did.

He dodged another swing of the troll's club, but tripped over some debris and fell to the floor.

"I'm gonna die in a bloody girl's loo!"

Hermione closed her eyes. Ron was right. They were going to die.

She didn't want to die.

And then the door banged open one more time.

Her eyes snapped open hoping to see one of the professors coming to save the day. Instead she saw the messy black hair and bright green eyes of Harry Potter.

What was it with these boys coming into the girl's lavatory anyways?

"Hermione! Ron! Run!" the newcomer shouted as he threw himself at the troll.

Hermione stayed frozen where she was as she incredulously watched the eleven-year-old boy attack the twelve-foot troll.

He moved so fast that her eyes had trouble following him. He ran straight at the beast and then spun around in a roundhouse kick that landed squarely on the side of the troll's knee. The monster howled in pain and swiftly brought its club down right where Harry was standing. It smashed into the floor so hard that the ground trembled from the blow.

But Harry wasn't standing there any more – he was running up the troll's arm and throwing a punch that landed right on the beast's disgusting nose.

It howled again and swatted at Harry with the back of its hand. This time the blow connected, and the boy was thrown through the air and into the far wall.

Hermione's mouth dropped open again as Harry managed to land in a crouch with his feet planted _on the wall_!

 _You're not supposed to be able to do that! You can't crouch on walls! Gravity doesn't work like that!_

But Harry apparently didn't care about the laws of gravity as he rebounded immediately, springing away from the wall to once again attack the troll's knee. He landed a powerful blow that seemed to reverberate in the air and Hermione heard a loud _snap!_ as something broke.

The creature howled in pain and collapsed to the floor. Its beady eyes glared murderously at Harry as the boy vaulted through the air, and with a midair somersault, landed outside of its reach.

The monster screamed in fury and pounded its fists and feet into the ground, causing the whole room to shake. It grasped for its discarded club, but someone called out " _Wingardium Leviosa_!" and the weapon rose up out of its reach.

Hermione turned to see Ron with his wand extended, pointing at the club.

It seemed like he wasn't so terrible with Charms after all.

Harry threw both his hands forward, and the club sailed right to him. He caught it, and even through the thing was longer that he was tall and likely three times as heavy, he brought it up and over his head, and with an incredible leap, brought it slamming down onto the troll's skull.

The beast went still.

Three sets of eyes slowly regarded each other.

"Is it dead?" Hermione quietly asked.

Harry closed his eyes before responding.

"No. Just knocked out."

"We're in _so_ much trouble." Ron added.

And then the door burst open a fourth time and in rushed Dumbledore, McGonagall, Quirrell, and Snape.

"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall cried.

"Potter!" Snape barked. "It figures you'd be behind this travesty!"

Quirrell took one look at the unconscious troll and then stumbled against the wall, clutching at his heart.

"Now, now," Dumbledore calmly admonished, "I'm sure these three can explain why they're not in their common room and are instead in a destroyed girls' bathroom with the body of our missing troll."

Hermione would swear that she saw the Headmaster's eyes actually twinkle.

She looked at both of the boys. Harry was breathing heavily after all his exertion. Ron was white with fear at the prospect of getting in trouble, seemingly much more afraid now than he had been while confronting the troll. Neither of them looked like they knew what to say.

"It's my fault," Hermione heard herself saying. "I wanted to go exploring. Harry and Ron tried to get me to go to the common room, but I wouldn't listen. Then the troll found us."

"And just what happened to the troll?" McGonagall asked, gesturing to the unconscious creature.

"Ron used the Levitation Charm to lift its club away and Harry hit it in the head, knocking it out," Hermione answered.

"Do you really expect us to believe that three first-years managed to incapacitate a fully-grown Mountain Troll, Miss Granger?!" Snape snarled at her.

"Now, now, Severus," Dumbledore said, "let's all just be thankful that no one was hurt. Besides the troll, of course. I think twenty points each to Gryffindor for bravery are in order. Don't you agree Minerva?"

McGonagall sputtered.

"Awarding points?! They should be punished for not going straight to their dormitories!"

"I think this experience has been punishment enough for them," Dumbledore said, the twinkle back in his eyes. "I doubt these three will ever go looking for trouble again. Will you?"

The three students quickly shook their heads.

"Right. Off you go then. The feast has been moved to the common rooms. Be sure to get there before it's all gone!"

Hermione quickly left with Harry and Ron before the Headmaster could change his mind.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Harry slowly picked at his food back in the Gryffindor common room. It wasn't like he wasn't hungry. He was. Fighting the troll had used up a lot of energy. But he couldn't keep his mind off of the new disturbance in the Force that he felt swirling all around him. Hermione and Ron were oblivious to such things of course.

They were sharing a secluded corner together. They hadn't said much to each other, but there seemed to be a new bond between them, and it just felt like they should stick together. Ron was eating with gusto, shoving food into his mouth as quickly as he could pick it up. Hermione seemed to be more like Harry, quietly thoughtful and picking at her food after their encounter with the troll.

"Thank you," she finally said. "Both of you. If you hadn't come when you did…"

"It was mostly Harry," Ron said as he swallowed a mouthful and then took another bite, "I jus' casta shpell."

"Still. You came. That's what counts."

Ron's face flushed red before he mumbled his reply.

"Yeah, well, you know. Felt kinda bad. Was my fault you were in there all day. Sorry for bein' a prat."

In the Force, Harry could feel that there was something off about the other boy's response. He was... embarrassed. And there was something that was maybe... untruthful... about his words.

But Hermione just smiled.

"You're forgiven."

Ron turned his eyes to Harry.

"How'd you do all that anyways? All that flippin' and runnin' and jumpin'?"

Hermione furrowed her brows and looked at him as well.

"And I swear I saw you get thrown against the wall, but instead of hitting it and falling, you just crouched _on the wall_ and used your feet to spring back at the troll."

"Err… yeah, well, I kinda did," Harry answered.

"How?" Hermione asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," she said. "After seeing you fight the troll, I'm ready to hear you say just about anything."

Ron looked rather interested as well. He'd actually stopped eating to pay attention.

"Well, err… I actually already told you. On the train. I used the Force."

"You mean all that stuff you've been going on about is real?" Ron asked rather loudly.

"Shhh!" Harry admonished. "Do you want everyone to hear us?!"

"Sorry."

"Still," Hermione said. "You mean you really are a, what did you call it, a 'Jed-hi'?"

"Jedi," Harry corrected. "And kind of. I'm not really a Jedi yet. I'm still learning to use the Force and about the Jedi Arts. But one day I'll be a Jedi Knight. And yes, that's how I fought the troll."

"Wicked," Ron said.

"What else can the Force do? Is it like using magic?" Hermione asked.

"Here, watch," Harry replied. He then stretched out his hand and slowly levitated his fork and knife so that they spun in the air between them.

"So what?" Ron asked. "That's just the _Leivosa_ spell. We learned that in class today."

" _Ron_." Hermione shook her head. " _Look_. He's not holding his wand. And he didn't cast a spell. This is something different."

"Oh," Ron said before his eyes widened. "Oh!"

"The Force is like magic, but different," Harry explained. "Magic comes from within. It's something inside us. But the Force is all around us. Life creates it, makes it grow. It's an Energy field that flows through the whole world, through the entire universe. A Jedi is able to open himself up and let the Force flow through him to do all sorts of things."

"Like what?" Ron asked.

"Lots of stuff. You get a… _sense_ of the world and people around you. You can kind of tell when things are about to happen. I can move really fast and I have great reflexes."

"That would be killer for playing Quidditch!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry nodded and continued.

"I can jump higher and farther than anyone else I know. And I'm just getting started, still learning. And then there's all sorts of mental stuff too. Meditation and mind tricks, and techniques to help with memory and learning new information."

"Really?" Hermione asked, a bright new look coming into her eyes. "Is that why you're so far ahead of the rest of us with your schoolwork?"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm that far ahead. But yeah, the Force makes learning and remembering new things much easier."

"Can anyone learn to be a Jedi?" she asked.

"Well, no," he answered. "Not just anyone. Most people aren't Force-sensitive at all. But I think witches and wizards are. Using magic is kind of similar. And all the magicals I've met feel rather strong in the Force."

"You have to teach us," Hermione stated.

"Yeah!" Ron agreed. "Imagine us on the Quidditch team! The three of us all with reflexes like yours! We'll be unstoppable!"

"I'm not sure I can do that…"

"Why not?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah!" Ron added. "You told us all about it."

"I know, but…" Harry trailed off.

It was forbidden. The Holocron had told him as much. Only Jedi Masters were allowed to instruct others in the ways of the Force. And Harry was no master.

"How did you learn about it?" Hermione asked.

"I kind of have a… sort of… teacher, I guess." Harry answered.

"Could he show us too?" She asked.

"No. I actually already asked him about that. He said it'd be impossible for him to teach more than one student at a time."

"Come on mate," Ron pleaded, "you've _got_ to teach us! It's what friends do for each other!"

"Friends?" Harry asked, his heart starting to speed up.

Hermione smiled brightly.

"Of course," Ron answered.

"I like the sound of that," Hermione added.

Friends. He finally had friends. Ron and Hermione. And friends helped each other. Shared things together. How could he _not_ show them how to use the Force?

But Master Isu had been insistent. Harry was not to teach _anyone_ about how to use the Force. He said it would lead to disaster.

Harry looked into the bright, happy eyes of Hermione and at Ron's grinning, excited face.

Friends…

He sighed.

"Fine. I'll teach you."

"Yes!" Ron cheered.

"This is going to be so exciting! Imagine all the books we'll be able read and remember! All the knowledge at our finger tips!" Hermione said.

"Books! Think of how good we're gonna be at Quidditch! We're gonna dominate the tryouts next year!"

"But this has to be absolutely between us only!" Harry interrupted. "Our secret. No one else can ever know. Ever! No teachers or parents or anyone! I'm _really_ not supposed to teach anyone at all. And if my, err… _teacher_ , finds out, I don't know what he'll do."

"No worries mate," Ron said. "We can keep a secret, right Hermione?"

The girl looked a little hesitant, but eventually nodded in agreement.

"This is the start of something beautiful," Ron said. "Everything is going to work out great. You'll see. I can feel it!"

Harry nodded. He'd agreed and there was no going back. He just hoped that the disturbance he felt in the Force had to do with something else entirely.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Sybil Trelawney shook herself out of her daze. She was so absentminded sometimes. The price one paid for the gift of the Sight…

She felt something wet on her feet and looked down to see broken bits of porcelain scattered about and the remains of her tea soaking into the rug.

Now when had she dropped her teacup? She didn't remember doing that.

She waved her wand and cleaned up the mess before turning to make herself another cup. It wouldn't do to end the day without trying to read the tea leaves. One never knew when the Sight would choose to come…

* * *

 **AN: What did you think?**

 **(NEW NOTE 24 November 2018) So it seems that this is somewhat of a divisive chapter among my readers. Apparently a lot of people simply can't believe that Ron would have gone after Hermione to warn her about the troll without Harry's urging. So let me just point out that since Ron's moment of decision happens 'off screen,' we don't get to really see why he went to warn her. He could have simply had a crisis of conscience and decided to do the right thing. Or maybe Lavender and Parvati yelled at him and forced him to go look for her since it was his fault. Or maybe he made a joke that Hermione was going to get eaten by the troll and his older brothers threatened to beat him unless he went after her. The point is, it's intentionally ambiguous. This story does not have an omniscient narrator, rather, it's told from the limited perspective of the point of view character. So, as the reader, you can either try to infer the motivations for Ron's actions from the clues and context that I did write, or you can make up your own reasoning. Does that make sense?**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	7. VII

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

VII

 _Saturday, November 2, 1991_

"Right," Harry said as he looked at his two new friends.

They had been virtually inseparable for the past day and a half. Some things just forged bonds between people unlike anything else, and apparently facing down a twelve-foot troll together happened to be one of those things. It helped that Harry and Hermione had a lot in common, especially their diligent work ethics. But while Hermione loved learning for its own sake, Harry just seemed to have a great sense of personal responsibility that extended to his studies. Ron was not really interested in schoolwork, but he brought a lot of fun and humor to their little group, and always seemed to be able to make them smile.

They were currently seated together on the floor of an unused classroom just down the hall from Gryffindor Tower. Hermione and Ron were anxiously waiting for Harry to make good on his promise and teach them about the Force.

"So how do we begin?" Hermione asked.

"Um..." Harry began, "I guess we should start with the code."

"The code?" Ron asked.

"Yeah. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force."

"Okay," Hermione said, the words likely already committed to memory. "Now what?"

"Err… I'm not sure," Harry answered. "I've never taught anyone before."

"Well, how did you first learn?"

"I got lost in an underground cave system and I panicked so much that I eventually just kind of reached out to the Force to find my way out again."

Ron glanced around the room with a smirk.

"Don't see any caves, mate. That's not gonna work."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

"So desperation is the key?" she asked.

"No," Harry answered. "Far from it actually. The Force comes easier when you're calm. At peace."

"So how did you do it while you were panicking in the caves, then?"

"Err… well, I… Okay, maybe my first experience isn't the best example to go with then."

"Nope!" Ron happily added.

"My second lesson was probably more 'normal,'" Harry added. "Not that I really know what 'normal' Jedi training was like…"

"Why not?" Ron asked.

"Because the Jedi lived thousands and thousands of years ago in a completely different galaxy."

" _What_?!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Didn't I tell you that before?" Harry asked.

"No you certainly did _not_!" Hermione said as she started to work herself up. "Are you telling me that what we're going to be learning is actually extraterrestrial knowledge?! That this is actually _proof_ that aliens exist?!"

"I never thought of it like that," Harry replied. "But yeah, I guess so."

"Blimey," Ron remarked.

"So you're telling me," Hermione started after a moment, "that we'll be learning something here, with you, that no one else on the _entire planet_ knows?"

"As far as I know, yeah. Well, maybe. I'm not really sure to be honest. I mean, I kinda thought that someone at Hogwarts would know about the Force. But no one does. And if they don't know about it here…"

Harry watched as a fierce light came into Hermione's eyes.

"Right," she said, "let's do this."

"Okay," Harry said, "so, close your eyes," they did as instructed, "and breathe…"

"Already doing that, mate," Ron smirked.

Harry couldn't help but laugh a little bit.

"Yes you are, but focus on it. Breathe. Just breathe. Don't do anything else. Just breathe."

Harry stayed silent for several minutes as he watched Ron and Hermione simply sitting there, cross-legged on the floor, slowly breathing in and out.

"Now listen."

"Listen to what?" Ron asked.

"Stop asking questions, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "We'll never get anywhere if you keep interrupting!"

"Look who wants me to stop asking the teacher questions!" Ron laughed.

"Very funny," Hermione replied.

"Okay, stop," Harry said. "It's okay to ask questions. But right now, just follow what I say, okay? We'll do questions later. When I say, 'listen,' you're not really listening _for_ anything in particular. You're just gonna listen. Got it?"

"Okay," Hermione answered.

"Sounds good," Ron agreed.

"Right. Let's start again. Now, breathe…"

A few minutes later, they were once again calmly breathing in and out.

"Now listen. Reach out with your hearing. Send it out to hear even the tiniest sound."

Hermione's face was scrunched up in concentration. Ron looked completely relaxed.

"Don't try to force it too hard. Gently send it out."

Harry watched again for a few more minutes before giving his next instruction.

"Now, reach out with _all_ your senses. Not just your hearing, but reach out with your feelings, with your awareness…"

Watching his friends simply sitting there with their eyes closed was getting pretty boring. Harry nearly slapped himself when he realized that he'd get a much better picture of what was going on if his own senses were stretched out around him in the Force.

He reached into the flowing Energy around him and focused his awareness on his two friends.

Ron was utterly calm. Maybe even too calm. Harry was afraid that the boy might be close to falling asleep.

Hermione, on the other hand, was a storm of anxiousness. Her thoughts were constantly in motion as she stubbornly focused herself on the task at hand.

This wasn't working.

Okay, time for something different.

Carefully, he sent out a trickle of awareness and inched it through the currents of the living Force toward Hermione. As he got closer, he could feel her struggling to push her senses out of herself, but she wasn't doing it right. She was too demanding. She expected her senses to obey simply because she told them to, like telling a dog to sit.

He reached out to her and gently brushed against her presence with his own. It felt warm and comfortable and intimate, and it lasted for less than an instant.

She recoiled in shock.

"What was _that_?!" Hermione asked as her eyes flew open.

"What was what?" Ron added with a yawn.

"That was me," Harry answered. "You were struggling to hard, expecting your senses to obey your demands instead of inviting them to follow where you wanted to go. I used the Force to brush against your presence with my own."

"Oh," Hermione said as realization flashed in her eyes. "Oh! I… it just… it just felt so… so…" Her checks flushed pink as she rambled.

"I'm going to do it again—"

"You're going to do it again?" she squeaked as her face went even redder.

"Yes, I'm going to do it again. And this time, don't recoil. Follow me and I'll try to lead you out."

"Okay."

"What about me?" Ron asked.

"Just keep breathing and reaching out with your senses," Harry said. "I don't think I can do this with more than one of you at a time. You'll go next."

"Fine," Ron grumbled.

They settled down again, and a few minutes later, Harry was gently sending his awareness toward Hermione. His senses touched her presence in the Force. It was warm and soft, but also hesitant. Unsure. Harry extended an invitation.

 _Follow me_.

She hesitated.

Harry could feel her steeling herself, stirring up the courage that had landed her in Gryffindor.

Then she accepted, and he took hold of her presence with his own.

It didn't seem so much like taking her by the hand as it did… flowing through her, while she flowed through him, and the Force flowed through them both. Harry paused for a moment in wonder at the sheer intensity of the sensation. He'd never been so close to someone else before. He never knew you _could_ be so close to someone else before. It was almost impossible to tell where he ended and where she began. She was so warm and comfortable, and feelings were starting to stir within him that he'd never known or felt before…

But soon enough he remembered what he was supposed to be doing, and he started to guide her _out_ and into the current of the living Force that swirled all around them.

He basked in the feeling of being so caught up in her presence for another moment, but then brought his mind back to the purpose at hand.

 _Now I'm going to let you go._

 _No!_ her thoughts reverberated through him. _Don't leave me alone!_

 _You're not alone. You cannot be alone. Do not be afraid. There is no fear. There is the Force._

He pulled his presence out of the embrace, but didn't move too far away. His senses shivered at the lack of her presence, but he held himself back from reaching for her again like he was tempted to do. He could sense Hermione's awareness floating and swirling in the Force, and he felt the change from within her as she realized what she was doing.

Harry opened his eyes. Hermione was sitting there with her eyes closed, smiling in pure bliss. A moment later her eyes slowly opened, and sharp brown met bright green.

"I felt it," she finally said.

"I know," he answered.

"Felt what?" Ron asked.

Harry and Hermione both blushed and quickly looked away from each other.

"The Force," she answered him. "It's here, all around us. It's… I don't know how to describe it…"

"Err… Now that you've sensed it, hopefully you'll be able to reach out into it without my help," Harry said. She glanced at him with a deep intensity in her eyes, but Harry had no idea what it was she was trying to say. He felt part of himself stir in reaction, however, as he remembered the intimacy of their embrace in the Force. "Try it on your own while I help Ron."

"Okay," she quietly said before closing her eyes.

"Ready, Ron?"

Ron quickly looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione before responding.

"I guess."

Soon Harry was once again reaching out into the Force, but this time sending his awareness toward Ron. As he traversed the… _distance_ , as if the concept of distance held any meaning in the Force, he could feel Hermione nearby, already stretching her senses out into the Energy of life itself. But then she wobbled, and her feelings snapped back to her body. It was going to take a _lot_ of practice before she could maintain an embrace of the Force on her own.

Harry focused back on Ron. He brushed his awareness up against is friend's. Unlike Hermione, Ron was hot and stiff and… brittle. So very different. Harry briefly wondered how _he_ felt to his friends. He reached out in invitation, but Ron was closed off, and he felt him close himself off even further as a metaphysical door slammed in Harry's face.

He opened his eyes.

"Ron, you have to let me in."

The other boy grimaced.

"It didn't feel right," he said.

"How so?" Harry asked.

"Dunno. Just weird. I don't know. Let me try on my own a bit longer."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

Several hours later, Hermione was still struggling to maintain her connection to the Force, but each time she managed to hold on a little bit longer. Harry watched her progress from his own position floating in the Force.

Suddenly he felt another presence reach out into the current around them before it quickly disappeared.

"I did it!" Ron cheered as he leapt up to his feet. "I really did it!"

"Yes you did," Harry agreed.

"I can't believe it!"

"Maybe that's why it took you so long," Harry offered. "You need to be confident in your ability. You simply need to do it, it's not enough to merely try."

Ron smirked.

"Yeah, well, I still did it."

"Yeah, you did. Now do it again."

Ron was about to respond, but was interrupted by a loud growl from his stomach.

"Or maybe we could wait until after lunch?" he asked hopefully.

Harry laughed.

"Not a bad idea. Come on, Hermione. _Hermione_!"

"Hmm?" she asked, blinking herself back into awareness.

"Time for lunch. You might be able to feel your connection to the Force now, but your stomach still needs food."

"Now that's true wisdom!" Ron cheered.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Thursday, November 21, 1991_

Hermione stared down at the broom lying on the ground with dread. She really didn't want to be here. She hated flying. She had always been afraid of heights and she didn't understand why flying around on a broomstick so dangerously high in the air was part of their curriculum. It made no sense! It was like attaching a grade to gym class - utterly preposterous!

She felt Harry's presence approaching her without lifting her eyes from the ground. It had been like that since their first lesson, part of her was now simply always _aware_ of Harry Potter in a way that she'd never been aware of anything before. She blushed as she couldn't help but remember the experience of intertwining, of merging with his presence. Did he even know what that had felt like to her? What the mere memory still felt like for her?

The green-eyed boy slowed his broom to a stop and then hopped down to the ground.

"Hermione?" he asked. "What's wrong? I can feel your fear all over the place."

"I just hate flying, Harry," she whispered in response. "I'm afraid of heights, and flying certainly doesn't help. I wish we didn't have this stupid class and that I could be practicing with the Force instead!"

"Who says you can't be?" Harry asked with a smile.

"What?"

"Look, you need to overcome this. You can't let your fear control you. That's actually really dangerous for a Jedi. Fear, anger, aggression, feelings like those can lead to some bad things. So you can't hold on to your fear of flying."

" _Now_ you tell me this?"

"Err… should I have told you earlier?"

"YES!"

"Oh. Sorry."

Hermione sighed.

"It's not your fault, Harry. You're doing your best as a teacher. And honestly, you're doing wonderfully. I just don't know if I can do this…"

"Sure you can. Fear is dangerous for Jedi, but the Force also helps us deal with it. You just need to gather up your fears and other harmful emotions when they show up, and release them into the Force."

"What? Now?"

"No time like the present," Harry grinned at her.

"Okay. How do I do this?"

"Concentrate on your own presence and find your fear, then gather it up, and reach out, taking the fear with you into the Force, and then just… let it go. Let the Force wash it away."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It kind of is, actually."

"Fine."

Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated. She couldn't drop down into a more meditative position with so many people around, but she'd make do. She reached out into the Force, it was so magnificent, so wonderful each time she let herself be embraced by that living Energy… She turned her senses back on herself, and was surprised at how easily she saw her fear and her dread. She gathered them up and stretched them out into the strong current of the Force, and like Harry said, she just let them go and watched them wash away.

Immediately, she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She opened her eyes and looked down at the broom. She still had some trepidation, but it wasn't anything like the fear she had felt before.

"Good," Harry said. "Now, try embracing the Force as you're flying. Let it guide your movements and your reactions. It's amazing, believe me."

He then hopped onto his broom and sped off into the sky.

Hermione looked back down at the broomstick lying on the grass.

She could do this.

The Force was with her, and she could do this.

"Up!" she ordered and the length of wood slapped against her palm. She swung her leg over it, and then gently pushed off to hover a foot above the ground. Without the fear assaulting her, it was… actually a bit boring.

 _Alright then_ , she thought, _let's see what this thing can do..._

She steeled herself, gathering her courage, and then she reached out and invited the Force to fill her. It flooded into her and flooded her with exhilaration.

Hermione blasted off into the sky, rocketing up and through her classmates who were lazily circling around the grounds. She felt no anxiety or dread, because she knew the Force was with her, subtly guiding her every movement.

She banked to her right and rolled, allowing gravity to capture her for a brief moment before she pushed past it and dove toward the ground. She pulled up when the Force bid her, and raced along the sea of bright green grass, relishing the wind that whipped through her hair.

She sensed Harry and Ron pull up on either side of her, laughing all the while. Together they raced off toward the Forbidden Forest. They stayed just on the edges of the trees, but together they darted through the branches, bobbing and weaving in all directions, their movements in sync with each other. Harry and Ron whooped and cheered for pure joy, and Hermione found herself joining in.

Again they rocketed up into the sky and then flipped over in tight loops before speeding back toward the castle.

Hermione could see the faces of their classmates turned toward them, gaping in disbelief at their display of aerobatics. Malfoy actually looked rather ill as he stared at her.

"Well, I say!" Madam Hooch declared as she approached the trio just after they landed. "Miss Granger, it certainly looks like you've overcome your aversion to flying!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Hermione happily replied.

"And if the three of you manage to keep that up," the instructor continued while eyeing each of them in turn, "I have a feeling that the Quidditch Cup is going to be safely resting in Professor McGonagall's office for years to come."

"Hear that, Harry?" Ron asked. "I told you this was going to be brilliant!"

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Wednesday, December 25, 1991_

"Oi! Harry! Where are you?!" Ron shouted in the empty Gryffindor common room.

Most of the students, including Hermione, had gone home for the holidays. But he, Harry, and a handful of others had stuck around in the castle.

Christmas at Hogwarts had been brilliant so far. Ron had woken up to lots of presents and sweets at the foot of his bed, and the hours-long feast had been absolutely delicious – Ron had stuffed himself with more roast goose, potatoes, Yorkshire puddings, stuffing, Brussels sprouts, and Christmas pudding than he'd ever thought possible. The platters of food just never seemed to go empty. Sure, the pudding wasn't quite as good as his mum's, but it was a close thing.

Now he was looking to close out the day with the perfect thing – a nice game of chess with his best mate.

Except for the fact that the bloody prat had gone missing.

"Harry! Come on, mate! Where are you?!"

"Boo!" Someone screamed behind him.

"Gah!" Ron shrieked and spun around. There he saw Harry's floating head, sporting an ear-to-ear grin.

"Bloody hell mate! Don't do that to a bloke!"

"You're lucky Hermione's not here to hear you talk like that," Harry laughed.

"Yeah, well, she isn't. And when I mentioned using your new cloak for pranks this morning, I was talking about pranking _other people_ , not me."

"If you can't prank your friends, who can you?" Harry asked.

Ron just smiled and shook his head.

"Fancy a game of chess?" he asked

"Sounds good," Harry responded, "Just a moment, I'll get my new set!"

Harry ran up the stairs only to return a few seconds later carrying the wizarding chess set he'd gotten out of one of the Christmas crackers at dinner. They quickly set up the board in front of the fire and soon they were well into the game.

Harry was pretty good. Not as good as Ron normally was, but good enough that he needed to really concentrate.

Harry moved his knight and took one of Ron's pawns.

"Check."

 _Crap_ , Ron thought, _I bloody well didn't see that coming…_

He could take the knight with his rook, but that would leave his bishop open. Or he could just move the king, but he didn't want to get boxed in later on…

Ron concentrated for a moment and embraced the Force, asking for guidance as to what his next move should be. It was difficult, Ron always struggled to maintain a hold on the Force and merely ask for help instead of simply demanding what he wanted. Harry was adamant about letting the Force do the leading instead of trying to take control himself. Ron didn't see what the big deal was, but he figured that Harry probably knew better.

A vision started to form and the moves of the game started to flow through his mind, possibilities unfolding. He could almost see it…

"Hey!" Harry shouted, snapping Ron out of his tenuous, semi-meditation.

"What?" Ron tried to innocently ask, but he couldn't help the bright red color that spread through his face and even to his ears.

"No using the Force to cheat at chess! We've gone over this!"

"I wasn't!"

Harry just stared at him.

"Fine. I was. But just a bit."

"And that's why I sneak up on you with the cloak."

Ron smiled as a thought struck him.

"We totally need to use your cloak to scare Hermione when she gets back," he said.

Harry grinned at him.

"Absolutely. Never heard of a more noble pursuit!"

"I bet we scare her so bad she actually uses a swear word!"

 _Yeah,_ Ron thought as they continued their game and made plans for pranking their other best friend. _Christmas at Hogwarts is the best!_

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Sunday, April 26, 1992_

Harry, Hermione, and Ron were taking advantage of the beautiful, early spring afternoon to practice their katas. Earlier in the school year, Hagrid had provided them each with a three-foot long staff of smooth, solid wood with no questions asked. Harry had no idea what the kindly gamekeeper might have thought they were doing with them, but he was sure that the notion of using them to practice Jedi Force katas never entered into the man's mind.

They had gone to the far side of the lake, where they were now gracefully flowing through the movements together, almost perfectly in sync.

Harry kept his eyes closed, but was acutely aware of everything around him, including Ron and Hermione as they followed his lead.

Then an idea struck him and he smiled.

"Keep going without me," he told his students. They obeyed without responding.

Harry wandered over to the edge of the forest and quickly found what he was looking for. It only took him a moment to gather up a handful. He walked back to his students and watched them flow from one position to the next, their staffs a constant blur of motion, and their every movement guided by the Force.

Harry reached out and invited the Force to flood his muscles. He took careful aim, and then threw one of his acorns directly at Hermione, as hard and fast as the Force would let him.

He watched as his friend's next swing adjusted ever so slightly so that the wood perfectly deflected the little nut away from her.

Harry smiled.

Hermione seemed like she had barely noticed that it even happened.

Harry took aim again, and launched an acorn at Ron.

Apparently his other friend's awareness of the world around him wasn't quite as good.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" he cried as he rubbed his sore shoulder. "What was that for?!"

"Language!" Hermione admonished without ceasing her kata.

"Training," Harry answered. "My cousin used to try and sneak up on me while I was practicing my katas in the park. He and his friends would shoot stones at me with their slingshots."

That brought Hermione's motions to a halt.

"Harry, that's terrible!"

"It was worse for them than it was for me. Trust me. Besides, it made for good practice."

"What? How?" Ron asked.

"Hermione, did you even notice when I threw an acorn at you?"

"You did?" she seemed surprised. "No I… well maybe. I felt the urge to alter the fourth move of the kata just a tiny bit, but I wasn't sure why…"

"That's because you moved your staff into the perfect position to deflect what I threw at you."

"Really?"

"Really."

"So what," Ron asked, "Now you're gonna pelt us with stuff as we practice?"

"That was the basic idea, yes," Harry answered.

"Great."

"You'll need to stretch out with your awareness of the world around you a bit more. It'll probably be harder for you than it was for me with my cousin. He was really trying to hurt me, so the Force was… _louder_ in its warnings. I'm not actually trying to hurt you, so the feeling won't be as noticeable. Ready?"

Ron groaned and rubbed his shoulder one last time before moving back into his kata. Hermione merely nodded and did likewise.

Soon the clatter of acorns bouncing off wooden poles filled the air, interspersed with a few cries of "Bloody hell!" from Ron and "Language!" from Hermione.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Monday, June 8, 1992_

The Great Hall was festively decorated in red and gold for the end-of-year feast. Gryffindor had easily won the House Cup, thanks, in no small part, to Harry, Hermione, and Ron, whose growing aptitude in mental Force techniques gave them an advantage in the classroom.

Harry was happily chatting with his friends and enjoying the delicious food when the Headmaster stood up to make an announcement.

"If I could have your attention for just a moment? Another year gone already. And good riddance too, I say!" That brought about a few chuckles from the students. "Congratulations to our Gryffindors, who put on a good show and won the House Cup this year!"

The Gryffindor table went wild with cheers, led mainly by Fred and George, while the other houses clapped politely. Except for Slytherin, of course.

"You now have a few more days to enjoy with your friends before you must return to the realities of life outside of school, permanently this time for our graduating seventh-years. I suggest you take advantage of these carefree days while you can."

That sounded a little ominous.

"I'm afraid, however, that I have some sad news to relate. A few evenings ago, Professor Quirrell, our Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, passed away due to a previously unnoticed condition."

Whispers started to spread at the news of the professor's death, but Dumbledore went on speaking, and most of the murmurs quieted.

"We shall always remember the wizard that Quirinus Quirrell was before such a dark and unfortunate fate took him from us."

Harry bowed his head and recalled one of the lines he'd learned from the Holocron, _There is no death, there is the Force_.

"But let us not mourn overmuch," the old Headmaster continued, "for after all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure."

Dumbledore sat back down and Harry turned to his friends.

"Poor Professor Quirrell," Hermione said.

"Guy kind of gave me the creeps," Ron said. "There was something off about him."

"Ronald!" Hermione admonished. "That's terrible!"

"You know it's true."

"But still! It doesn't do well to speak ill of the dead!"

"So, err…" Harry began as he stood from the table, "exams are finished, so I was thinking that maybe we could put in some extra time with… you know…"

"That's a wonderful idea, Harry!" Hermione responded.

Ron groaned.

"Can't we just take it easy for a bit?" he asked.

"Don't be such a lazybones, Ron," Hermione scolded him.

"I've got to make sure you're prepared to train all summer on your own, you know" Harry added.

"Fine."

"Let's go then!" Hermione said.

Ron grumbled before grabbing one last biscuit from the table and following his friends out of the hall.

* * *

 **AN: And thus ends first year! Rather uneventful, wasn't it? The way I see it, the trio was focused on their Jedi training, (and to a lesser extent, their schoolwork) and so didn't have time to run around worrying about mysteries in the castle. Quirrell gets stopped by the Mirror, Voldemort's shade eventually abandons him, and the poor guy drops dead. So sad.**

 **On a side note, please know that I always try to respond to your reviews. There are exceptions of course, mainly when it's impossible to do so, such as for guest reviews and when users have PMs turned off. FFN also occasionally has some glitches on the site which can cause some problems. But other than that, you can pretty much always expect me to respond.**

 **Thoughts?**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	8. VIII

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

VIII

 _Friday, July 31, 1992_

 _You must always seek to constantly maintain your connection to the Living Force_ , the voice of the Holocron reverberated through Harry's mind, _as such, you must keep your focus on the present, on the here and now._

"But what about maintaining an awareness of the Unifying Force?" Harry asked as he meditated in his place at the center of the swirling debris in his room. He never had learned to control his subconscious during his meditations. "Isn't that important too?"

 _Adherents to the view of the Unifying Force in Jedi philosophy were always few in number. It was agreed by most Jedi Masters that too much focus on visions of the future and the past leads to neglect of the present, and with it, neglect of a Jedi's duty and ultimately of the Force itself._

"I see…"

But the lesson was cut off as the Force screamed in warning around him. Harry's eyes flew open and he leapt to his feet. The image of Master Isu winked out and the Holocron flew to its hiding place while he called both his staff and his wand to his hands and readied to defend himself.

Not that he really knew any defensive spells, but he'd rather have his wand than not.

An instant later there was a barely audible _pop_ and an odd creature appeared in his room.

It was short, the top of its head only coming up to Harry's navel. It had greenish skin and ears that were much too big for its head. Its large, green eyes were the size of tennis balls and they seemed to widen in fear when they took in Harry's stance.

"Oh no!" it cried, "Dobby is too late! Harry Potter is under attack already! Don't worry! Dobby will defend Harry Potter!"

The creature began frantically jumping around the room, looking for enemies, as the dirty pillow case it used for clothing whipped back and forth.

Harry relaxed his tensed muscles and straightened into a more comfortable stance as he realized that he couldn't feel any threats in the Force. He'd never get used to people Apparating close to him. He spent a moment watching the odd creature in confusion before speaking.

"Who are you?"

The little thing stopped and went completely still, regarding him with those huge green eyes.

"Harry Potter, asks Dobby who Dobby is? Harry Potter is truly a great wizard!"

Apparently the thing was a 'Dobby,' whatever that was.

It took in Harry's relaxed stance and cautiously looked around the room again.

"Is the danger gone, Harry Potter?"

"The danger was you. I felt you coming and I didn't know what was going on. Best to be prepared."

That seemed to confuse the little creature.

"Dobby is not a danger, Harry Potter. Dobby is an elf! Oh, but Dobby is a bad elf, trying to tell Master's secrets!"

The little _elf_ jumped to the side and began to slam its head against the wall.

"Hey! Stop that!" Harry cried.

The creature obeyed, but seemed a little woozy as it came back to stand in front of him.

"Err… right. Um, why are you here, exactly?"

"Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter! Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts! Terrible things are about to happen this year!"

And with that, Harry felt a grave disturbance spread through the Force. But the creature's voice brought him back to the present.

"Bad elf! Telling Master's secrets!"

Dobby dropped to his knees and smashed his face into the floor.

"I said stop that! Why do you keep hurting yourself like that?"

"Dobby tries to tell Master's secrets. Dobby must be punished."

"No more punishing yourself, then."

"Harry Potter is not Dobby's master. Dobby must do as Master says."

Harry sighed. He could tell that arguing wouldn't do him any good.

"What can you tell me about this danger at Hogwarts? I believe you. What can I do to be ready?"

"Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"

"But what about my friends? What about everyone else at the castle? I can't just leave them if there's something bad about to happen."

The elf wrung its hands, seemingly unsure of how to respond.

"What if I promise to be careful?"

"Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"

This was going to be a long conversation…

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Wednesday, August 19, 1992_

"Harry! Ron! Over here!" Hermione called out as she waved to her friends when she caught sight of them coming toward her in Diagon Alley.

It was wonderful to be so close to them again, to feel their presences so strongly in the Force. She'd missed that since they'd parted ways at Kings Cross.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry greeted.

"'Lo, 'Mione," Ron managed to say around whatever he was chewing on.

"How was your summer?" She asked.

"Ehh, alright," Ron replied. "Scabbers ran off as soon as we got back from the Express. Haven't seen him since. Probably finally got himself eaten."

"I'm sorry, Ron."

"No worries. He was kinda useless anyways."

"Harry?" she asked turning to her other friend.

"Boring mostly, just training."

"Do you ever do anything else besides work on the Force?" Ron asked.

Harry laughed.

"Sometimes," he answered. "Although I hope you both kept up over the summer too."

Hermione almost felt affronted that he would even ask her such a thing. As if she would neglect any of her studies!

"'Course I did!" Ron said. "Need to get good at the Force so I can dominate on the pitch!"

Hermione sighed but smiled. She was actually looking forward to Quidditch herself.

"I did have something interesting happen a little while ago," Harry stated as they turned and together headed down the street.

"Oh?"

Harry related his strange story about the elf that had visited him with an ominous warning on his birthday.

"The weird part is, I think the little creature is right. Since that moment, I've felt a strong disturbance in the Force. I'm afraid that something terrible actually is going to happen at Hogwarts this year."

Hermione really didn't like the sound of that, and she felt the icy grip of fear start to take hold in her stomach. But she refused to let it, no dark side for her, thank you very much. She quickly gathered it up, and released it into the Force.

"Have either of you felt anything like that in the Force?" Harry asked.

Hermione closed her eyes as she walked, and calmly reached out. But it was Ron who answered first.

"No. But now that you mention it, yeah, I _can_ feel a disturbance in the Force."

Hermione felt it too.

"What do we do?" she asked.

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Not much we can do, really. Just keep your awareness in the present and on the Living Force."

They quietly chatted and caught up with each other as their feet carried them down the alley. Finally, they stopped in front of one of the shop windows.

Ron grinned.

"Quality Quidditch Supplies, my home away from home!"

"Let's go in," Harry said with a grin, "I've got a surprise for you!"

They entered the shop and Harry marched right up to the counter.

"Err… excuse me?" he said to the shopkeeper, "I've got an order on hold here."

Hermione turned away and wandered over to stand next to Ron who was staring at the latest broom in the display case. The Nimbus 2001.

"She's beautiful," he whispered.

Hermione smiled. It was a nice broom. But she wasn't sure if she'd call it beautiful. Or refer to it as a 'she.'

Harry cleared his throat behind them.

Together, they turned to look at Harry, who was holding three broomsticks.

"Right," he said, looking a bit nervous. "These are for you." He then quickly shoved a broom at each of them.

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted. "This is a Nimbus 2000!"

Hermione looked down at what she was holding. She could tell right away that it was a very well-made broom. And likely very expensive.

"You're the best mate a boy could ever ask for!" Ron exclaimed before throwing his arms around Harry.

"Harry, this is too much," Hermione finally said. "You shouldn't have done this. I can't accept something this expensive."

Harry's smile seemed to falter at her words. She felt horrible.

"Sure you can!" Ron argued.

"Ronald Weasley!" she shouted, "We certainly can't accept such expensive gifts from Harry! It's not right!"

"Yes you can," Harry finally said. "I can afford it. There's lots of money just sitting down in my vault just gathering dust."

Ron seemed a bit put out by that statement. But he didn't loosen his grip on the broom.

"Still—" she started to say.

"And besides," Harry continued over her protests, "if you don't accept it, I'm still buying it. I'll just donate it to the Gryffindor Quidditch team and you'll still have to use it when we make the team together."

"He's got a point there, Hermione," Ron offered. "It's really for Gryffindor."

She sighed and looked at Harry. She reached out with her feelings and took in the green-eyed boy's presence in the Force.

For all his words, it was easy to tell that he hadn't bought the brooms for Gryffindor. He'd bought them for her and Ron. Because they were friends. Because… he'd never had friends before them.

Hermione's eyes went wide at that realization.

Harry was nervous that she wouldn't accept the gift, worried that he'd done something wrong, and afraid that he'd damaged their friendship and that she'd reject him…

She couldn't let him think that.

"Thank you, Harry," she finally said as she reached out to hug him. She felt his surprise but didn't comment on it. "It's a lovely broom, and you really shouldn't have, but I'll be sure to make good use of it."

Harry's joy was palpable in the Force.

"You're welcome."

"We'll all make good use of them," Ron added. "Slytherin doesn't know what's coming!"

OoOoO

OoOoO

Back at the Burrow that evening, Ron lovingly placed his new Nimbus 2000 in his school trunk. He wasn't worried about the twins messing with it, even they wouldn't go so far as to mess with such a beautiful broom. Some things were just sacred.

He shuddered when he recalled his mother's reaction to Harry's gift. She'd nearly forced him to give it back. But Harry's line about just donating it to the Gryffindor team where Ron would get to use it anyways finally swayed her.

He closed the trunk and turned to head down for dinner. With the Nimbus out of his sight, he was more able to focus on the world around him.

 _Need to concentrate_ , he told himself. _Harry said to be wary of the disturbance in the Force. And I need the Force if I'm going to make the team…_

He stretched out with his feelings, and ran right into the disturbance they'd talked about. It felt stronger than it had in Diagon Alley. Almost as if…

As if it was at the Burrow.

He instantly went on full alert. His senses thrummed as he closed his eyes and tried to locate the center of the disturbance. With his eyes still closed, he left his room and turned to go down the stairs, trusting the Force more than his eyes. He passed Ginny's open door and then paused, backing up to stand right outside her room. He stepped inside, and drifted over to the corner by her cluttered desk.

"Ron!" Ginny shouted. "Get out of my room!"

He opened his eyes to see his baby sister lying on her bed, reading an old issue of _Witch Weekly_.

He ignored her, instead focusing on the cauldron filled with secondhand books from Flourish and Blotts. He reached down and started searching through the stack.

"What are you _doing_?!" Ginny cried. He could sense that she was getting angry, but this was more important.

He paused in his search when he came across a thin, black volume.

The Force screamed at him.

"Ginny," he said, "where did you get this?"

"They're my schoolbooks, you git! Where do you think I got them?"

"Not those," he replied. "This one. The black leather one. That's not a textbook."

"What are you on about?"

Ginny got up and looked at what Ron was pointing at.

"I don't know," she finally said. "Mum must've got it for me."

"Mum didn't get that. I can feel… Go get dad, Ginny."

"Stop being a git and get out of my room, Ron."

"Fine!" he shouted. "I'll go get him myself! Don't touch that book!"

Ginny just rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine as Ron turned to the door.

A few minutes later he was back with his father in tow.

"You really brought dad up here?" Ginny asked in surprise.

"Yeah."

"Okay, Ron," Arthur Weasley calmly asked, "what's got you so worried?"

"That black, leather book," he answered while pointing to the offending object around which the disturbance in the Force was hovering. "It doesn't feel right."

"Well, I'll have a look then and put your mind at ease."

Arthur took out his wand and quickly tapped the book.

His eyebrows furrowed before he tapped it again.

" _Specialis Revelio_!" he incanted after another moment and with a complicated swish of his wand.

"My word!" he shouted before jumping backwards.

"Ronald! Ginny! Go downstairs right now!"

By now Ginny looked more than a little scared.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You need to get away from this thing _right now_! Go!"

They didn't need telling a third time. As they hurried down the steps, Ron heard his father call out behind him.

"Molly! Floo the Auror Office! No, better Floo the Headmaster himself!"

And then, despite the tension and fear that he could feel from his family, Ron felt the great disturbance in the Force simply melt away.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Saturday, November 7, 1992_

"Right you three," Oliver Wood started in on them as he continued his pregame speech, "I took a big gamble putting you on the roster. Three second-years starting at chaser! I've taken a _lot_ of grief from the other captains about this. Not to mention that Angelina and Alicia _still_ won't speak to me!"

Harry glanced over at Katie Bell, the only member of the Gryffindor chaser line from the year before that was still on the starting roster. Not that she was a chaser anymore, she'd been moved to seeker. She looked like she was still a little angry, but not nearly as angry as the other displaced chasers. More than once, a warning from the Force had been all that had saved Harry and his friends from a 'harmless' prank. To say that Angelina and Alicia were not taking their removal from the team well would be quite the understatement.

"You've been amazing in practice, so make sure you don't choke out there! Gryffindor will skin me alive if you don't play up to what you're capable of. And they'll probably skin you too…"

Oliver Wood really knew how to inspire his team before a match.

Harry looked at Hermione and Ron. They were all decked out in their Quidditch robes and holding their Nimbus 2000s. They looked nervous. He made sure he had their attention before he nodded to them and then closed his eyes. He knew they'd get the message.

He reached out into the Force and invited it to flow into him. He let the Energy inundate him and wash away his anxiety. Next to him, he felt Hermione and Ron do the same. He let time quickly pass him by.

"Alright! We're up!" Wood eventually called out. "Fly out as they call your name!"

Harry would not be nervous. He had the Force.

He was still a little nervous…

"And now for Gryffindor!" Lee Jordan's enchanted voice reverberated through the pitch. "First up we have the brand-new chaser line for the lions, Hermione Granger! Ron Weasley! And Harry Potter!"

The cheers that the three friends met as they flew out of the tunnel were much more subdued than what Harry remembered hearing the previous year. Especially from his own housemates. But he wasn't worried, they'd be cheering soon enough.

"Team Captain Oliver Wood made quite the drastic change to his line-up following tryouts this year when he benched the second highest-scoring chaser line of last season in favor of these fresh-faced second years. Can they live up to expectations? I certainly hope not! Or else Angelina will never get her spot on the roster back and she'll definitely never go out with me!"

"Jordan!" McGonagall's voice cried out.

"Sorry, Professor. And now come the beaters, Fred and George Weasley! Followed by seeker Katie Bell and the infamous keeper and team captain Oliver Wood!"

Several students from the Gryffindor stands actually booed at Wood's name.

Harry quickly circled the pitch before taking his place to watch Wood and the Slytherin captain Marcus Flint listen to Madam Hooch's instructions. Harry was almost certain that Flint had some troll blood in him. He glanced up to look at the other players in green. Each and every one of them was larger and more imposing that Harry and his two friends. And the Slytherins were known for playing a very physical, punishing game. If they got their way, Harry, Hermione, and Ron would surely regret making the team.

They'd just have to make sure that the Slytherins didn't get their way.

He saw the two captains shake hands, and once again Harry embraced the Force and let himself be filled with its Energy. He invited it to guide him, to direct his every move. And he could feel Hermione and Ron doing the same.

Harry sat on his broom, feeling like a coiled spring, ready to burst into motion.

"Here we go!" Jordan cried out. "The start of the 1992 Hogwarts Quidditch Season is just a moment away!"

Madam Hooch released the snitch and the bludgers, and took hold of the quaffle. She started the toss, and Harry was already in motion, following the bidding of the Force, willing to go wherever it invited him.

"Madam Hooch releases the quaffle," Jordan recounted the action, "and Potter's already all over it! He quickly passes to Weasley, who passes to Granger. Granger dodges a bludger and sprints down the pitch, and spins right under Flint! What a move! The Slytherin captain surely thought he had her there! She passes to Weasley, who passes to Potter. Potter shoots! He scores! Ten – nothing Gryffindor! And we're underway!"

"Bletchley inbounds… only to have the pass stolen by Granger! She quickly scores! Putting the good guys up by twenty!"

"Jordan!"

"Sorry Professor!"

"Bletchley inbounds again to Flint. Flint passes to Montague, who dodges a bludger, he passes to Pucey— but it's stolen again! This time by Weasley! He passes to Potter, who throws it right back to Weasley! He shoots, no he faints, then goes left. He scores! Red is up thirty to nothing! Green has yet to get the quaffle out of their end of the pitch!"

"Bletchley on the inbound— and it's stolen by Potter for another quick ten points! Unbelievable! Where did these kids learn how to fly?!"

Harry pulled his broom around casually dipped under a bludger that came up from behind him to let it pass by. He headed for the right side of the pitch, and then started to climb. The noise from the crowd was deafening, but Harry was ensconced in a little zone of peace as he flew with the Force.

"Flint sprints down the pitch, looking like he's just going to barrel through any opposition. He dodges a bludger from Weasley, only to have Weasley sneak up and pop the quaffle right out of his arms! It's picked up by Granger, who passes to Potter. Potter to Weasley, back to Potter, to Granger, she shoots! Bletchley makes the block! But Weasley's all over the rebound! He scores! Forty - nil Gryffindor! Never in all my days have I seen Quidditch like this!"

"Bletchley on the inbound to Pucey. Pucey to Flint, Flint to Montague— but Potter intercepts! He passes to Weasley. But he bobbles it. No! He drops it right to Granger who was below and behind him! How'd he do that?! She fakes the pass to Potter and shoots! She scores!"

"Flint is motioning for a time out, and I think he's smart to do so. This is turning into a rout. Slytherin has yet to get the quaffle out of their zone and they're already down fifty to nothing!"

Harry flew down to the bench to join his teammates.

"Good work, you three!" Wood exclaimed. Harry glanced at his friends. Hermione looked rather silly with her hair a windswept mess, frizzing out in all directions, but she had a bright smile on her face. Ron looked like he was in the midst of ecstasy, like his every dream was coming true right then and there. Which was likely the case, now that Harry thought about it.

"Keep it up," Wood continued. "Keep the pressure on them and we've got this in the bag. Fred, George, keep the bludgers off them so they can focus on their scoring."

Hermione raised her hand.

Wood actually did a double take seeing her do that.

"Umm… yes, Hermione?" the captain asked.

"If I may, might I suggest that Fred and George focus on disrupting the Slytherin chasers instead?"

"But…"

"Harry, Ron, and I can handle the bludgers. Honestly, they haven't been much of a bother so far."

"Not much of a bother, she says," Fred said with a smile.

"She can handle them, she says," George added.

"Hear that Oliver? This one might be after your captain's badge!" Fred declared.

"Better start hiding it under your bed during classes!" George finished.

"If she keeps playing like she is," Wood replied, "I'll pin it on her myself!"

Hermione turned bright pink at that.

"Right, Hooch is about to blow the whistle. Weasleys, do as Hermione says for now, but keep your eyes open in case our chasers get into trouble."

"Yes, sir!" the twins both barked at once.

"Let's get back out there!"

OoOoO

OoOoO

"Malfoy and Bell are neck and neck racing after the snitch!" Jordan's voice resounded through the stands. "She reaches, but comes up short as the snitch zips to the left. Malfoy checks her right, and then speeds after it, he's got the angle, and he snatches it right out of the air! Malfoy catches the snitch and that's the game folks! Little good does it do him, however, as the final score is Gryffindor 480 over Slytherin 150! The Guys in Green never even managed to get the quaffle out of their own end! That's got to be some kind of record! I bet the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw captains are in a panic trying to think of some way to counter these Gryffindor chaser prodigies! Any doubts about Wood's sanity have certainly been dispelled!"

Harry flew down to the ground where he was quickly wrapped in a hug by Ron and then Hermione.

"That was bloody amazing!" Ron cheered.

"Language!" Hermione laughingly admonished. "But I have to agree! It was quite fun! I've never been good at a sport before! I like it!"

The trio was quickly surrounded by their other teammates, and then by a sea of red and gold. A few moments later, they found themselves hoisted up upon their housemates' shoulders.

"What did I tell you?" Ron cried to his two friends over the loudly celebrating Gryffindors. "This year is going to be _awesome_!"

Harry wasn't sure if it was the Force speaking to him or not, but he couldn't help but think that his friend was absolutely right.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Saturday, June 12, 1993_

Ron shoved another large piece of his pork chop into his mouth before quickly following it with a fork-full of applesauce. The farewell feast was just as delicious as it had been the year before. Especially since the Great Hall was once again decked out in Gryffindor red and gold. Ron's prediction had come true – it had been an _awesome_ year.

No one could keep up with the unstoppable Gryffindor chaser line – they'd totally dominated the entire season and easily won the Quidditch cup. The only points that had been scored against them had been because Slytherin and Ravenclaw had both caught the snitch, but by the time they did it had hardly mattered. Ron, Harry, and Hermione had racked up so many points by then that the snitch simply signaled the end of the game. Their third and final match against Hufflepuff had been even more of a blowout. Oliver Wood had decided to abandon his useless position simply floating in front of their hoops in favor of harassing the opposing team's seeker. What good was a keeper when the other team couldn't even get the quaffle out of their own zone? Gryffindor had won that game 860 to nothing.

"Do either of you have any plans for the summer?" Hermione asked.

"Nah," Ron said before swallowing his mouthful of food, "Mum'll probly just have me working around the Burrow."

"Don't look at me," Harry added, "the Dursleys would never let me in on anything fun they had planned."

"Well, I might be going to Paris in July," Hermione stated. "Mum and dad were talking about it in their last letter. It'll be wonderful to see all those museums, I can't wait to see the Louvre…"

"You guys think the professors ever go on vacations?" Harry asked as he looked at the head table.

"I can't really see Snape taking time off," Ron said. "He's probably afraid some fun would make him _almost_ human."

"I'm sure that they must find something to do during the summer," Hermione added. "I mean, with no students around, I'm certain that they don't just hang around the empty castle."

"I bet Hagrid does," Harry said. "Probably just takes care of his creatures."

"I wonder what Dumbledore does during the summers," Ron mused. "Although, I also kinda wonder what he does all year long…"

"I bet he travels," Hermione said, "he probably tries to attend as many academic functions and gatherings as possible. Like the 865th Annual Assembly of Alchemists that's set to open this August in Leuven."

"I bet he and McGonagall just hang out at the beach all summer," Harry said with a grin.

"Oh that's just ridiculous!" Hermione responded. "Honestly! Can you picture them in bathing suits?"

"I am now!" Ron said with a shudder. "Thanks for that mental image!"

Harry was now wearing a devilish grin.

"I bet Snape goes with them, brings lots of Sun Tan Potion. Probably wears one of those skimpy Speedo suits too."

"Eww… Harry!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's disgusting!"

"My eyes!" Ron said over-dramatically. "My poor innocent eyes!"

They shared a brief laugh together before going back to their food. Summer would come and go quickly, and Ron was hoping that third year would be just awesome as second had been.

The Force was with them, after all.

* * *

 **AN: I can't help but think that this really is how a Quidditch game would go if one side had three Force-adept chasers. How could you possibly defend against that? What do you think? Am I right, or did I go overboard? Let me know in a review.**

 **Apologies if you left a review or sent me a PM and I did not respond to it. FFN has been pretty glitchy over the past couple of weeks and I did not receive several alerts. Hopefully that's all worked out now or will be soon.**

 **Special thanks to ashez2ashes from the HPFanfiction subreddit for his/her help with the final scene!**

 **Updates might not be quite so regular over the next few weeks. I'm going to be doing a lot of holiday traveling, and I'm not sure how much time I'm going to have to work on this. So, just take this as fair warning – maybe I'll have time to update, maybe I won't. Things should get back to normal sometime in mid-January though.**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	9. IX

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

IX

 _Friday, June 25, 1993_

The rat scurried into the hallway and quickly hid itself in the shadows against the wall. Its nose twitched back and forth as it sought out something, anything that might do it harm. Smelling nothing, it darted down the hallway and squeezed through the crack at the bottom of the door and into the little room beyond.

The room was small, but decorated with obvious care. The blue wallpaper was dotted with smiling, yellow suns and slumbering crescent moons. The antique wooden rocking chair in the corner had a soft blanket folded over its back. There was a big dresser and a table with a soft, padded surface.

And there was a crib with handsomely carved wooden rails.

The rat scurried into the middle of the room and then transformed into the huddled, nervous form of Peter Pettigrew.

Pettigrew looked down at the slumbering child that was lovingly tucked-in and sleeping in the crib. A Muggle boy, not yet a year old - just as the wraith had instructed him. He cringed away. The child had a smell about it. Probably needed to be changed.

All of a sudden, the baby stirred and started crying.

"Quiet, you little brat!" Pettigrew snarled.

He pulled out his wand and started to cast a spell when he heard the door creak behind him. He turned to see a young woman standing there. She was dressed in long, flannel pajamas, and was holding a baby's bottle.

She started at him for a moment.

Pettigrew stared right back.

Then she screamed.

" _Avada Kedavra_!" he shouted and green light silenced the woman.

"Jenny!" a man's voice shouted from somewhere else in the house.

There was no more time to wait around. He quickly bent down and grabbed the crying child. He pointed his wand at the dresser, and a quick _Incendio_ had the thing burning like a torch. He spared one last look at the woman lying on the ground as he heard the sound of footsteps running down the hall.

He turned on the spot and Disapparated with a loud _crack_!

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Wednesday, September 1, 1993_

"Hey Weasel!"

Harry heard the voice of Draco Malfoy call out as they were leaving the feast in the Great Hall.

"Just ignore him," Hermione whispered, but Ron had already stopped and turned to face the other boy.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he replied.

"I heard you and your blood-traitor family went on vacation to Egypt this summer," the blond boy said as he and his two bodyguards sauntered up to the Gryffindors.

"What of it?" Ron asked with his eyes narrowed.

"How did it feel? Being able to travel like normal people?"

Harry could see his friend start to go rigid, his muscles tensing, ready for action.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Harry stated before turning away. But the Slytherin wasn't finished.

"Although, I'm not sure if your pathetic excuse for a father made a very good decision taking the lot of you abroad," Malfoy continued his taunts. "If I'd won seven hundred galleons, I'd have finally bought you some decent robes. Really, the way you and your filthy siblings allow yourselves to be seen in public…"

Ron's hands were clasped into trembling fists.

"But then again," Malfoy went on, "I don't actually need to win the _Prophet_ 's grand prize just to afford new robes."

The Slytherins apparently found that to be rather funny, especially when Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't seem to find a way to respond.

"Let's go," Malfoy eventually said to his friends, "the Weasel's still saving up for some wit. We'll be here all night if we wait for him to say something!"

Harry could feel the anger radiating off his friend as he watched the Slytherings stride away with narrowed eyes.

"Don't pay them any mind," Hermione said.

Harry placed a hand on Ron's shoulder.

"Let the Force wash away your anger," he instructed, "just gather it up and let it drift—"

But Ron pushed his hand away.

"Shove off Harry," he said before turning toward Gryffindor Tower.

"Ronald Weasley!" Hermione admonished as they hurried after him. "That was uncalled for!"

"Lay off me, Hermione!" he shouted at her before turning to Harry. "And I'll give my bloody anger over to the bloody Force when I'm good and ready! I'm not gonna to turn to the dark side over freaking Malfoy of all people, even if he is a giant arse. Just leave me be for a bit."

Harry and Hermione stopped and watched their friend stomp down the hall, grumbling to himself about Malfoy being a 'bloody git.'

"Honestly!" Hermione finally said. "He's no reason to be short with us!"

"He'll be fine," Harry eventually said. "Just needs to cool down."

He turned and tried to smile at Hermione.

"Weasleys and their tempers," he continued, "just part of their charm."

They both shared a short, nervous laugh before continuing to the common room, but neither of them found the situation to really be funny.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Tuesday, December 14, 1993_

Hermione smiled in utter contentment as she turned another page of the book lying on the table in front of her. It was an old tome, written in 1437 on the possible adverse effects of attempting to cast Transfigurations without holding a clear image in mind. The author's style was rather poor, he tended to use too many words when a few would have sufficed, his penmanship was atrocious, and his Latin definitely left something to be desired. Hermione quickly finished the page and turned to the next.

She _really_ loved the Force.

It was just so _useful_. She'd always been smart. And she'd always loved to read, devouring books like they were going out of style. But since she'd begun learning about the Force from Harry, she'd graduated to a whole new level of bookworm. Or maybe it was better to say a whole new order of magnitude.

She was still herself, and she didn't feel like she was any more intelligent than she had been before, but the mental discipline she'd learned in order to embrace and remain in the Force also helped her to focus so much more intently upon her reading. And when she invited the Force to flow through her _while_ she was reading… the way she was able to not only recall and remember the text, but also understand it and draw new conclusions and make connections to other material… not to mention the sheer speed at which she could read… it was… marvelous. Simply marvelous.

Hermione was vaguely aware of a few of the other students in the library that were staring at her and her pile of books. Jealously hung heavily in the Force, especially from the group of Ravenclaws that were huddled around the table across the aisle. They couldn't understand how she could go through so many books so quickly, and they resented her for it.

Hermione didn't care.

She didn't need them. Their petty feelings of insecurity, which would likely be expressed in snide remarks later on, were of no concern to her. Just a few years previously their glares would have filled her with self-doubt and anxiety.

But not now.

Now she was rather happy with the way her life was going.

She was one of the stars of the Gryffindor Quidditch team (who could have imagined that?!), and she was still getting used to the popularity among her housemates that her athletics had earned her. It had done wonders for her self-confidence. She'd even been asked to Hogsmeade by three different boys! _Three!_ She'd turned them all down of course, she didn't have time for that kind of foolishness. And they weren't her type. But still, it felt lovely to be sought after.

She was quickly reading through as many books as she could get her hands on. By her own estimation she'd likely finish the entire library by the middle of her fifth year, unless her reading speed jumped up another notch again, of course.

She had two wonderful friends that she knew she could count on for anything. The three of them were nearly inseparable. And they were constantly vying with each other for the best grades out of the entire third-year class. Well, she and Harry were. Ron had to be chided into doing his homework every once in a while, but he was still in the top ten most of the time.

And she had the Force, which kept opening new horizons for her seemingly every time she reached out and let it embrace her.

Yes, Hermione Granger was quite happy with her life.

And it was all thanks to Harry.

Hermione sighed as she snapped her book closed and reached for another.

To think, if fate hadn't brought them together, and if Harry hadn't reluctantly agreed to teach her and Ron about the Force, who knew where they'd be now? She certainly wouldn't be doing one-armed handstands while levitating stacks of books in unused classrooms during her free time, that was for sure.

The only thing that could've been better would've been if she had been able to sign up for all of the elective courses offered at Hogwarts. But the schedule didn't allow for it, as there simply weren't enough hours in the day. She'd eventually settled on not taking either Muggle Studies or Arithmancy, as those classes didn't include much practical work and she'd correctly assumed that she could teach herself the material through reading. She figured that she was keeping up with her peers in those subjects, and was sure that she would do very well in them when she eventually sat for her OWLs.

The big surprise of the year so far had been Divination. She'd expected the class to be something of a joke, having heard plenty about the professor from the upper-class Gryffindors. And while Trelawney was obviously a charlatan, the Force seemed to thrum within Hermione whenever she practiced the material. She knew that visions were possible through the Force, Harry had told them as much, but she'd never had one. Still, Divination brought her into contact with an aspect of the Force that she'd never experienced before, even if that wasn't the object of the class.

Hermione glanced at her watch. She had thirty minutes before she was supposed to meet Harry and Ron to practice their katas. Plenty of time to finish the 378 pages remaining in the book.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Monday, February 21, 1994_

Harry tugged his cloak tighter around him as he trudged through the snow on the way to his Care of Magical Creatures class. Winter in Scotland was freezing and walking through the snow to class was less than enjoyable. He was glad for the Snow Repelling Charm than Hermione had taught him to put on his shoes– without it, by now they would've been full of melting snow and his feet would've been wet and freezing.

Suddenly, the Force rang out in warning. Harry leaned to the side and ducked as something whizzed through the air where his head had been not a moment before. It soared pass him and struck Hermione in the back of her head, exploding in a shower of wet, white clumps that got lodged in her bushy hair.

"Ronald Weasley!" she shouted as she turned to glare at their red-headed friend.

But Ron was grinning like a loon and already busy molding another snowball.

"You're such an immature, little—"

But she was cut off by Ron's next attack that splattered against her chest.

"What's that, Hermione?" he taunted. "Can't hear you. You're a little muffled by all that snow you're wearing!"

Hermione whipped out her wand and pointed it at the snow-covered ground.

" _Ningues Oppugno!_ " she shouted and a huge pile of snow lurched up and threw itself at Ron.

He tried to dance out of the way, but couldn't escape it all.

"Cold! Cold! Bloody hell, woman!" he cried as he jumped around and tried to reach down the back of his robes, "You've got it down my back!"

Harry burst out laughing at his friends' antics.

They both stopped and turned to look at him.

"What's so funny, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, what're you laughing at?" Ron added.

"Err… nothing?"

"Get him!" Hermione cried.

Harry whipped out his wand and tried to defend himself, but an overwhelming mass of cold, white missiles was already headed straight for him.

By the time they made it to class, all three of them were totally covered in snow, but they were laughing with each other nonetheless.

For once Harry was glad that Hagrid still had them working with salamanders – the little fire lizards would give him a chance to warm up. Hermione's snowball-fighting skills had surprised him. She really knew what she was doing. The clever girl was somehow able to make sure that plenty of snow always found its way down the back of his shirt.

He needed to find a way to get back at her. He smiled as he thought. Maybe he should talk to Ron about setting up an ambush for their friend. She'd probably find a way to turn it against them, but that would be fun too.

The melting snow under his clothes made him shiver and broke his train of thought. Where were those salamanders?

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Saturday, April 16, 1994_

Ron grinned as he took his position on the pitch. They'd dominated once again this year, and Slytherin was all that stood between Gryffindor and another sweet, sweet Quidditch Cup championship. The evil gits didn't stand a chance, not when the lions had the Force on their side.

"Hey Weasel!" Malfoy called out from his broom.

The grin slipped from Ron's face.

"Go fly into a tree, Malfoy!" he called back.

"Is that how your pathetic father ended up with your mother? Flew into her giant rear end and just decided to stay there?" the pointy-faced git laughed.

Ron felt his face flush red. Malfoy really had it coming one of these days…

"At least I can actually play Quidditch!" Ron shouted at the other boy. "Unlike you!"

"Big deal," Malfoy dismissed his statement, "so you manage to stay on your broom while you chase after the quaffle. Who cares? Everyone knows that the seekers are the _real_ Quidditch stars."

Ron seethed inside.

"We totally shut you out last year! And we're going to do it again today!"

Malfoy shrugged.

"It's not my fault that my team is saddled with a bunch of no-talent hacks. I still caught the snitch last year, and I'll do it again today. That's all that matters. It's all the professional scouts look for anyways."

The little _bastard_!

Before he knew what he was doing, Ron had already reached for the Force and was speaking.

"You don't even know what the snitch looks like, Malfoy!"

The blond boy looked confused. He shook his head as if to clear it.

"I don't know what the snitch looks like?"

Ron grinned again.

But then Madam Hooch was tossing the quaffle and the Force was telling him to dive. He followed its directions without another thought, and left Malfoy to himself.

OoOoO

OoOoO

"This is quickly turning into another rout by Gryffindor!" Lee Jordan's voice carried through the stands. "Potter passes to Weasley. He dodges a bludger, and _another_ bludger that came up from behind! What a move! He passes to Granger. She shoots! She scores! Hermione Granger, queen of the air! What a girl! Maybe one of these days she'll finally go out with me."

"Jordan!"

"Sorry professor. That brings the score to Gryffindor 370, Slytherin zero."

Ron was in his element, gliding through the air on the back of his Nimbus 2000, the Force guiding his every move, and his housemates chanting his name along with Harry's and Hermione's as they continued to demolish the Slytherin chaser line.

He turned to look over his shoulder and spared a glance at Malfoy. The git was just sitting up there on his broom, looking around all confused. Like he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Of course, Ron knew that that was precisely the case.

He grinned.

 _Git._

He turned and dropped down several feet. Montague had the quaffle and he was headed his way. The Force beckoned him to swing left, but Ron saw another opportunity. He flew down so that the Slytherin would pass right over his head. He saw the older boy's eyes go wide in confusion at his odd decision. But Ron was still smiling as he reached out with just a trickle of the Force…

And the quaffle slipped out of Montague's hands and fell right into Ron's waiting arms.

He sped off toward the hoops. This was going to be yet another shutout.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Ron felt like his life couldn't get any better as he stepped out of the locker room. They'd destroyed the Slytherins and won the cup! 670 to nothing! Take that Malfoy! The git looked like he'd wanted to cry as he'd stormed off to the dungeons or wherever the snakes kept their gear.

Ron smiled. He had a party to get to.

A hand suddenly reached out and pulled him around the corner. But he wasn't concerned, he'd know that presence anywhere.

"What were you _thinking_?!" Harry asked in an angry whisper.

"What're you on about?" Ron replied.

"You know exactly what I'm 'on about!' What were you thinking using the Force like that during a game?!"

"Don't be daft," Ron answered, shaking Harry's hand off his shoulder. "We use the Force during games all the time."

"Relying on the Force for guidance and reflexes is one thing. Using the Force the steal the Quaffle is totally different!"

"No it isn't. The Force is the bloody Force!"

"What if Hooch had gotten suspicious?!"

"What? She can't sense the Force…"

"No, but what if she saw what you did? Called you out for summoning the quaffle or casting a hex or something during a game?!"

"Oh. Hadn't thought of that. But she couldn't prove anything!"

"No, but she'd be suspicious! The other teachers would get suspicious! I told you, this has to stay absolutely secret!"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. I get it. I shouldn't have done it."

"Don't do it again," Harry warned. "We've already got enough of an advantage without abusing the Force for a game!"

A game? A _game?!_ Quidditch was more than a bloody game!

But Ron took a moment to calm himself. Harry was right. He'd promised to keep the Force secret. And he would. They were already slaughtering anyone that came up against them anyways.

"Fine."

They nodded at each other. Both still a bit miffed, Ron could tell.

It was a good thing Harry hadn't noticed the mind trick he'd used on Malfoy, or else he'd _really_ be pissed…

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Thursday, May 26, 1994_

Harry sighed and relaxed himself further as he stared at the crystal ball in front of him. The stifling air and heavy clouds of incense wafted all around him, but he paid them no mind. A little bit of Force mediation during Divination was exactly what he needed. The end of year exams were only a week and a half away and Hermione was pushing them to study more than was really necessary.

He obliged her as always. After all, it wasn't very difficult. He knew the material pretty well, and a little extra studying would help with the practicals, which was always the hardest thing about magic. But it also made her happy, and Harry liked it when his friends were happy.

"Stare into the depths of the crystal ball…" Trelawney's husky voice solemnly intoned as she wandered the aisles. "You must close your mind and open your third eye…"

What a load of crock.

Harry peered into the crystal ball and reached for the Force. It flooded him and filled him with life and energy. His body and his mind sang with the rhythm of its currents. He was only vaguely aware of Trelawney's instructions as he let the Force guide him to where he needed to be.

He glanced away from the crystal ball, and was suddenly confused. Why was he out on the lawn? And when had it gotten so dark?

And why was there a feeling of dread steadily building in his stomach?

His breath began to quicken and his heart started to beat a terrified rhythm.

Behind him there was a sharp, sudden sound - a _snap-hiss_ followed by an electric _thrum_.

He spun around and saw a dark figure, cloaked in shadow, holding a bright, glowing sword of red fire.

He spun again, but grew dizzy.

The world swirled around and his vision went black, except for the glow of the fiery, red sword.

It moved so fast, faster than his mind could follow. Cutting through the air with its deadly, electric hum.

It battered against something with a clash of static - bright, terrible flashes lighting up the night.

Someone was screaming.

Someone was dying.

" _Harry_!"

He jerked his head back and his eyes flew open as he sucked in a lung-full of air. He coughed and sputtered as the incense and perfume overwhelmed him. He felt a hand slapping him on the back as he slowly regained his breath.

Harry looked up into the worried face of Ron Weasley.

"Alright there, mate?"

"Ron! Oh _shit_ , Ron! I had a vision, I—" and then he noticed that the entire third-year Divination class was staring at him.

"What did you see, child?" Trelawney asked as she pushed her way to him, her eyes huge and intent behind her thick glasses. "What did you _see_?"

His palms were sweaty and his heart was still racing. He could feel both Ron and Hermione's attention zeroed in upon him. They were worried. Not to mention what he felt from the rest of the class.

"It… it was…" he started to say. Should he tell the batty old professor what he saw?

"Death," Harry finally heard himself saying. "I think I saw death…"

"Oh my poor boy," the professor sadly pronounced. "My poor, poor boy. But Death does come for us all. There's no stopping the hand of Fate. To see your own doom… and still so young… such a terrible fate…"

Trelawney kept rambling as she circled around to the other tables. The rest of the class slowly looked back to their own crystal balls, but Harry could feel that their minds were still focused on him.

Was that really what he'd seen? His own death? But there had been more to it than that. Death was definitely part of what he'd seen, but somehow the vision seemed like something so much… _worse_.

Why was he seeing this now? What was the Force trying to tell him?

He reached out to invite the Force to take his anxiety and the remnants of his terror away from him.

Master Isu had told him about Force visions, but this had been the first he'd ever had. He knew that he shouldn't place too much credence in what he'd seen. The Holocron had taught him that the future was always in motion, never static or determined. What he'd seen might never come to pass at all.

But he couldn't get the image of that fiery, red blade out of his mind.

* * *

 **AN: What do you think? Let me know.**

 **I managed to find some time to work on this even while traveling, so lucky you! Again, no promises about updates during the next few weeks. But like I said before, I should be back to normal by the middle of January.**

 **Merry Christmas to all!**

 **Thanks for your reviews. And thanks for reading!**


	10. X

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

X

 _Monday, October 31, 1994_

Harry was a bit nervous as he walked into the Great Hall for the feast.

Ever since his Divination class where he'd seen the vision of a shadowy figure with a glowing, red sword, the Force had been in a constant state of disruption. The disturbance never settled down, but instead grew stronger over the summer and into the new school year. Now, as the student populations of three schools gathered together to see who the champions of the Tri-Wizard Tournament would be, the Force was roiling at a fever-pitch.

Something was coming, and whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good.

Harry took his seat at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione and across from Ron.

"Something's not right," he said instead of greeting his friends.

"I know," Hermione replied, "I feel it too."

"Force feels like a bloody niffler, jumpin' all over the place," Ron added.

"Language, Ron…" Hermione half-heartedly admonished him.

As the food appeared and everyone dug in, Harry tried to release his nervousness into the Force, but he couldn't concentrate. Between his own anxiety and the Force's disturbance, he was unable to cleanse his emotions. And that certainly wasn't good.

So he tried the old-fashioned way. He took a deep breath and tried to think calming thoughts. The Holocron had told him over and over again that he shouldn't dwell on either the disturbance in the Force or upon the vision of the future he had experienced. Neither one was a sure thing. And the little image of Master Isu had insisted that Harry should keep his mind on the Force in the present, in the here and now. Whatever would come would come. A Jedi's task was to meet his destiny when it arrived, not to overly worry about it before it was time.

But Harry wasn't a Jedi, not yet at least - he couldn't help but worry a little bit.

Soon enough dinner was over and the Headmaster stood to gather everyone's attention.

"It seems the moment we have all been waiting for has arrived," Dumbledore announced. "The Goblet of Fire is ready to let us know exactly who our champions shall be."

With a roar, the flames of the enchanted cup leapt higher than normal and spit out a tiny slip of paper. Dumbledore nimbly snatched it out of the air.

"The champion for the Durmstrang Institute for the Mastery of Magic shall be… Viktor Krum!"

The hall erupted into applause and cheers as the Bulgarian Quidditch star rose from his place and left the room. A few moments later, the goblet discharged another scrap of paper.

"The champion for the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic shall be… Fleur Delacour!"

All eyes turned to the stunningly beautiful witch that gracefully rose from the Ravenclaw table. The cheers that greeted her were notably louder than those that had acknowledged Krum. It was rather obvious, Harry noted, that it was mainly the boys in the room that were clamoring so strongly. He shared a quick smirk with Ron – some of their schoolmates were so easily taken in by a pretty face…

"Oh honestly!" Hermione exclaimed. "She's not _that_ good-looking."

"Jealous, Hermione?" Ron teased.

The young witch narrowed her eyes at her friend.

"Don't you even start, Ronald Weasley," she shot back, "if it weren't for the Force, you'd be drooling just like the rest of your boorish sex!"

"Ha!" Harry laughed.

"Oi!" Ron stated, placing his hand across his chest as if wounded, "don't you just lump us all in together like that! That's down right discrimination, that is!"

"He's got you there, Hermione," Harry added.

Hermione glared at her two friends, but eventually had to give in and smile.

"Fine. I retract my statement. Ron, you're just _barely_ better than the majority of the crude little boys in this school!"

"I can live with that," Ron laughed.

Finally, the goblet shot out a third slip of paper which Dumbledore dutifully read.

"And the champion for the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry shall be… Cedric Diggory!"

A tall, rather handsome seventh-year stood up from the Hufflepuff table and walked out of the hall. This time, it obvious that it was the girls that were cheering the loudest.

Ron sent a meaningful look at Hermione.

"Oh, be quiet you," she replied.

Harry and Ron both burst into laughter.

A few moments later, Harry watched as the flames in the Goblet of Fire died down to nothing and went out. He sat in pensive silence for a moment before rising to head back to Gryffindor Tower.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament was underway.

And the disturbance in the Force kept on roiling in the back of his mind.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Thursday, December 8, 1994_

"Alright, that's enough," McGonagall announced with a few minutes left in the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw Transfiguration class. "I expect ten inches on cross-species switches by next week. But before you depart, I have an announcement."

Harry looked up from packing away his things and shared a curious glance with Hermione before bringing his attention back to his Head of House.

"A long-standing part of the Tri-Wizard Tournament is the tradition of hosting a Yule Ball."

Harry felt a sudden spike of excitement in the Force from his fellow classmates. He had no idea what a Yule Ball was, but a lot of people were certainly very happy to hear about it.

"Hogwarts will, of course, be abiding by this tradition," McGonagall continued, "and the Yule Ball shall be held in the Great Hall at eight o'clock in the evening on Christmas day. Attendance is open to all students in fourth-year and above. First, second, and third-years may only attend if they are escorted by an older student."

The class broke out into enthusiastic chatter. The girls in particular seemed to think that the Deputy Headmistress' announcement needed to be thoroughly discussed.

"Just one more moment, if you please," McGonagall said making the students settle down just enough to let her be heard. "I know you'll all very excited, and you should be, occasions such as this are opportunities for us all to – let our hair down a bit. But _this_ occasion, however, is even more than that. It is an opportunity for you to meet and get to know the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons as well as to further stimulate international goodwill, which is the entire point of the tournament. As such, while attendance is not mandatory, it is most strongly encouraged that every student in fourth year and above attend the ball."

When she had finally finished, the class once again erupted into excited chatter. Harry could feel the eager anticipation in the Force. He noticed the eyes of several of the girls glancing not only at him, but at the other boys that were gathering their things. Once they were out in the hallway, Harry broached the topic with Hermione.

"Why is everyone so excited about this?" he asked.

Hermione shot him a sideways glance before answering.

"I suppose they're all looking forward to some fun with their friends," she said.

"Most of the excitement in the Force feels like it's coming from the girls, though…"

Hermione blushed ever so slightly before she responded.

"Yes, well, I suppose that _some_ girls are rather hoping that the boys they like will ask them to the ball."

"Ask them to the ball?" Harry repeated in confusion.

Hermione stopped in her tracks. It took Harry a moment to realize that she was no longer walking beside him.

"Harry," she explained, "that's how balls and dances work. Remember McGonagall saying that the younger-years couldn't come if they didn't have an escort? Traditionally, a boy is supposed to ask a girl if he can escort her to the ball. You know, it adds a bit of romance to the whole thing. Even if it is a tad sexist…"

"Bloody mental, the lot of them," Ron added. Harry almost jumped in surprise – he'd pretty much forgotten that their other friend was with them.

"And what, exactly, is so _mental_ , Ronald?" Hermione said as she focused a glare upon him.

"Girls. The whole lot of you. Getting all worked up over a silly dance."

Hermione shook her head at him but turned to continue to the Great Hall for lunch.

"You're such a romantic, Ronald," she said with a roll of her eyes.

Harry tried to think as they walked along in silence. Everyone was feeling such excitement about the ball. Well, everyone but Ron. But then again, he only ever got excited about Quidditch, so he was hardly a good example. Everyone else was obviously looking forward to the idea of a dance. He could even feel a trickle of excitement in the Force coming from Hermione.

Harry considered his female friend. She was certainly an exceptional girl – extremely intelligent, focused in her work and studies, always willing to lend a helping hand, wholly dedicated to the teachings of the Jedi and her training in the ways of the Force, and one hell of a chaser on the Quidditch Pitch as well. But for all her extraordinary qualities, she wasn't that dissimilar from her fellow witches. Harry could tell that she was looking forward to the prospect of being asked to the Yule Ball.

He knew it wouldn't take long. Someone would ask her soon. Harry was well aware that several of his housemates had tried to convince his bushy-haired friend to accompany them on a date to Hogsmeade. She'd always turned them down before, but this was different. She was looking forward to the ball, so she'd have to say yes to somebody.

Harry nodded his head as he made up his mind. It was the obvious thing to do – he didn't really know any other girls after all, at least not very well. Besides, it just felt right, and Harry had learned to trust his feelings.

"Err… Hermione?" He asked while coming to a halt.

"Hmm?" she answered, turning toward him.

"Well, err… Right. I'm not really sure of the right way to do this, but, umm, would you like to go to the ball with me?"

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise before a happy grin spread across her face.

"Well, you certainly work fast, Mr. Potter. I would be happy to attend with you. Sounds like fun, actually."

Harry smiled. She was right, it probably would be fun.

Hermione, still grinning ear to ear, looked down to the floor as a hint of pink appeared on her cheeks.

"Mental," Ron interjected after a moment, shaking his head at his two friends. "You two are as mental as the rest of them."

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Sunday, December 25, 1994_

Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror. She could barely believe what she saw. She knew she wasn't a pretty girl, and she was honestly okay with that. There were more important things than looks after all. She had better things to concern herself with, like her Force training, her studies, her friends, and even Quidditch, so she rarely spared a thought for the way she looked beyond ensuring that she met the standards of the Hogwarts uniform regulations. But this…

Wow.

She was rather impressed.

She looked _good_.

Hermione knew that she still wouldn't be the prettiest girl at the ball, there was never any doubt about that, but she was certain that she would be turning a few heads that evening.

Lavender and Parvati had done most of the work, taking pity on her when they saw her staring at her bottle of Sleekeazy's in bewilderment. So they went after her with combs and brushes and make up and tweezers and all manner of instruments that Hermione had never really thought about before. It had been kind of fun, actually. It felt like being one of the girls. Not that she would be making such efforts part of her regular routine, of course. But for special occasions…

She took one last glance at her silky, fashionably styled hair as well as at the lovely, periwinkle blue dress that her parents had bought her, before heading for the stairs and her date.

She found Harry waiting for her in the common room. He was seated on one of the couches, but stood up when she approached. She quite liked the smile that spread across his face, as well as the nervous way he opened and closed his hands. It was cute.

"Hi, Hermione."

"Good evening, Harry. You look rather handsome."

And he did too. His dress robes fit him rather well, and the green bowtie he wore brought out the color of his eyes. He'd even made an effort with his hair. Maybe she should have offered him some of her Sleekeazy's…

"Err… you do too," Harry responded. "Not handsome, but, you know, you, err… look nice, err… pretty."

"Thanks."

Suddenly she felt a bit nervous. Were they supposed to be doing something more? Were further complements expected? Should she have curtsied or something? What were they waiting for? What was she supposed to do next? She'd never read anything about how to go about your first date… She should have studied more…

"Shall we?" Harry finally asked.

She smiled.

"Let's."

They walked through the corridors in silence and were soon ushered into the Great Hall. Hermione smiled at the scene she found there. The hall was normally rather festive at Christmas, but this was beyond anything she'd seen before. There was a pristine blanket of snow covering almost every surface, and everywhere she looked there were beautifully decorated Christmas trees. Snowflakes fluttered down from the enchanted ceiling, but melted away into nothingness before reaching the crowd. The long tables and benches had been replaced with smaller, round tabletops and chairs, each looking like they would seat eight people. Lights sparkled here and there, and Hermione realized that they were live fairies darting about in the snow. There were moving ice sculptures in the corners of the room depicting fauns and centaurs and other magical creatures.

It was wonderful.

Hermione smiled and turned to Harry, slipping her hand into the crook of his arm.

"Let's go find a table," she said.

They quickly found Ron who was already seated with Lavender Brown. The self-proclaimed apathy of the third member of their trio had not stopped him from finding a date. Or rather, it hadn't stopped a date from finding him. As a member of the Invincible Gryffindor Chaser Line, Ron had actually found himself to be quite desirable in the eyes of a large number of his female classmates. And showing the courage that her house was known for, Lavender had broken decorum and asked Ron to be her escort only a few hours after Harry had asked Hermione. The pretty, blonde girl had later confessed that she wasn't going to wait around and let another witch steal her chance at grabbing one of the most sought-after wizards in the school, especially since Harry was already taken.

"Hermione!" Lavender virtually squealed as she hugged her dormmate. "You're so beautiful! I love your hair!"

"Oh, stop, Lavender. You know very well that _you_ did my hair."

"I know, but still! Isn't everything so amazing?!"

"Yep!" Ron answered. "When you think the feast's gonna start?"

They were soon joined by Neville and Ginny and then by Seamus Finnegan and Parvati Patil. Parvati and Lavender quickly put their heads together for some excited gossip as they waited for the champions to arrive. A few moments later the doors opened wide and the guests of honor paraded in.

Fleur Delacour glided into the room while towing an almost insensate Roger Davies behind her. The French witch somehow managed to make the act look graceful, even though Davies seemed barely able to do more than drool.

Viktor Krum marched into the room next escorting a short, blonde girl that had a rather dreamy look on her face. Ginny waved rather energetically at her, and called out in excitement.

"Luna!" she shouted. "Luna! You look great!"

Luna smiled and waved at their table before she went back to fiddling with her odd necklace while Krum led her to the Head Table.

Cedric Diggory came in last with Cho Chang on his arm. Hermione thought that they made a rather attractive couple.

Soon the feast began and their plates were filled.

"Slow down, Ronald," Hermione admonished her friend as he started to shove food into his mouth at his normal pace. "We're at a ball, at least try to use some manners. You'll embarrass your date."

"Don't worry about me, Hermione," Lavender said, "I don't mind. Ronny's a growing boy and needs to keep up his strength."

Hermione decided that she would have to reevaluate her opinion of her dormmate as she watched the other girl happily spoon some more potatoes onto Ron's plate.

She shook her head and then smiled at her own date. At least Harry knew how to use a fork and knife correctly.

Dinner was delicious, and the conversation was fun and filled with laughter. Hermione even availed herself of a glass of the excellent red wine that was served. But she stopped herself at one, the Yule Ball was neither the time nor the place for testing her limits.

The meal was over all too soon, and with a wave of his wand, Dumbledore cleared a large section of the floor for dancing. The champions started things off, but were quickly joined by the three Headmasters and their partners, and then by everyone else.

"Well?" Hermione asked as she looked at Harry.

"Well what?" he replied.

"Aren't you going to ask me to dance?"

"You want to dance?"

"Of course! This _is_ a ball, after all. Don't you?"

"Err… I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well you better think fast," she said as she stood up and took him by the hand, "because we're dancing."

"Err…" Harry mumbled as she pulled him out of his seat.

Hermione smiled as she saw Lavender and Parvati likewise cajoling their dates onto the dancefloor. Surprisingly, Neville was the one leading Ginny by the hand.

Once they were on the edge of the dancing area, she stopped and turned to Harry, taking his left hand in her right, and placing her right on his shoulder.

"Err… this might not be the best time to tell you," Harry began, "but I don't really know how to dance…"

"Oh, honestly, Harry," she rolled her eyes at him, "you're able to gracefully move through exceedingly complicated Jedi katas without making a single mistake, but you're afraid of a little dancing?"

"I never said I was afraid!"

"No, you didn't. But I can feel it."

"Oh. Right."

"Just relax. Reach out into the Force. Let it guide the dance."

Hermione felt him release his tension before he slid his right hand onto her waist. Hermione followed her own advice, letting go of the tiny butterflies that were dancing around in her stomach before following Harry's lead.

And then they were dancing.

And they were good at it too.

Although that wasn't much of a surprise. Like she'd said, they'd spent countless hours together going through synchronized Jedi katas. They already knew how to move with each other. Dancing was nearly the same thing, just a bit… closer.

Sometime later, Hermione had become a little pensive as Harry continued to twirl her about the dancefloor. The other couples had all stopped for breaks to either gather their breath or to quench their thirst, but Harry and Hermione had the Force, and it energized them as they flowed with it to the beat of the music. Hermione was pondering on what she was experiencing, what she was feeling.

Bliss, she finally decided. This must be what bliss feels like.

Harry lifted his arm and she spun out into a graceful circle before he quickly reeled her back in.

She looked up into Harry's eyes and felt heat rush to her face. He smiled at her. It looked like he was having fun dancing with her. He was rather handsome, she realized for the hundredth time that evening, and she really liked dancing with him.

The music slowed, and so did their movements. Hermione inched herself closer to her date, and soon both of her arms were clasped around his neck while her head nestled against his shoulder.

Bliss.

Nothing could bother her. Not even the constant disturbance in the Force that had been nagging them all year. No, right now there was nothing but Hermione and Harry and the music.

Her mind wandered back to her first year as it often did, to the very first lesson about the Force that Harry had given them. It had been so long ago, but the memory was still as fresh as ever in her mind. An involuntary shiver went through her just thinking about it. His presence had enveloped her and enfolded her. They way he'd reached _into_ her, and then she was in him, and they were in each other. It had been so intimate and warm and intoxicating and to be so very close, to be so much a _part_ of another person's presence, and then they had _moved_ and were engulfed in the energy of Life itself, subsumed into the Force, together, as one, inseparable...

It had seemingly gone on forever but had ended much too soon.

Hermione had never felt anything like it before or since. They had never reached into each other's presences again, had never even talked about it, no matter how much Hermione secretly wished that they would.

But dancing at the Yule Ball, Hermione decided, wrapped in Harry's arms, was the next best thing.

She would be perfectly content with spending the rest of the evening with him on the dancefloor.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Saturday, June 24, 1995_

Harry was anxious as he watched the champions on the floating screens above the maze. The third and final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament was very exciting, he thought. Diggory had cut his way through some nasty strangling vines, Krum had almost been burnt to a crisp by Hagrid's Blast-Ended Screwts, barely managing to escape alive, and Delacour had been swarmed by four Acromantulas, each bigger than a car, but was able to charm her way past them.

Now all three champions were racing toward the center of the maze. It was going to be a very close finish.

Harry turned to the side to look at his friends. Hermione was chewing on her bottom lip as her eyes were glued to the screens. Next to her, both Ron and Lavender were likewise watching with fascination. Ever since the Yule Ball, Lavender had seemingly wormed her way into the trio's little group. Harry was fine with it most of the time, he wasn't really sure what they saw in each other but he liked having another target around for Ron's good-natured ribbing, and Lavender really seemed to enjoy the red-head's sense of humor. So far Ron had managed to restrain himself from asking if Lavender could join their Force training sessions, and Harry was grateful. He didn't want to have to say 'no' to his friend. He liked the girl and everything, but he wasn't about to take on another student.

Harry turned back to the screens.

All three champions emerged into the center of the maze at the same time. They paused for the briefest of moments before bursting into motion. Krum and Diggory began hurling spellfire at each other, blasting great holes in the hedges and tossing up huge clouds of dirt. Delacour, on the other hand, was carefully dodging and shielding, all while slowly making her way toward the center platform and the cup.

Smart girl.

"She's got them," Hermione whispered to no one in particular.

Indeed it looked like she did. While the wizards were caught up in fighting each other, the lone witch had made it to the very center on the maze. She reached out and clasped a hand around one of the handles of the cup… and promptly disappeared.

Only to reappear an instant later in front of the judges' box.

The crowd went wild with cheering. Harry jumped to his feet in excitement just like everyone else.

"Score one for girl power!" Hermione shouted before launching herself at Harry, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Hey! What about your Hogwarts pride?" He jokingly asked.

"Oh, I've got plenty of that," she responded, "I'll just save it for the Quidditch pitch. After all, the tournament was about international relations. We should be happy for whomever wins."

A few minutes later, all three champions were arrayed before the crowd as the Headmasters and the two officials from the Ministry were happily extolling their virtues for all to hear. Apparently the tournament was a great success for everyone involved and they hoped to do it again soon.

Good to know.

Soon the champions had received their rewards and the crowd was shuffling out of the stands and heading back to the castle. The Hogwarts champion might not have won, but Harry was certain that there was still likely to be a party in the Gryffindor common room celebrating the end of the tournament and the immanent return of Quidditch if nothing else.

Harry was following behind Hermione when he heard someone call out to him.

"Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!"

He turned to see a wizard with short, almost unnaturally straight, grey hair and a narrow toothbrush moustache. Harry recognized him as one of the officials from the Ministry of Magic that was in charge of the Tournament.

"Yes?" Harry answered.

"Mr. Potter, my name is Bartemius Crouch," the man said as he came to stand next to him. "I'm Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Might I have a quick word with you?"

"What about?" Harry asked while sharing a quick glance with Hermione.

"The Ministry would like to get your point of view on the tournament. It will only take a moment."

"My take on the tournament?" Harry asked in confusion. "Who would care about that?"

"I assure you many people do. Please, it will only take a moment."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. What the heck? What did he have to lose?

"Okay, fine."

Crouch smiled and dropped his hand on Harry's shoulder.

And then the Force screamed out in warning.

"Harry! No!" Hermione shouted as she started to leap forward.

Harry tried to pull away, but he was too late.

He felt a hook yank him backwards from behind his navel.

And then he was gone.

* * *

 **AN: Cliffhanger! Ha ha ha!**

 **Bet you didn't see** _ **that**_ **coming! No one ever suspects the end of the Third Task!**

 **I somehow managed to find time to post a chapter once again while traveling. So there you go. No promises about next week.**

 **Side note about Evil Plans: Wasn't this chapter a much better plan than what Old Voldie worked out in** _ **Goblet of Fire**_ **? You've already got Crouch under the Imperious, why not just have him waltz up to Harry with a Portkey during a moment of confusion? Why go through all the trouble with the Tournament? I guess the answer is that in that case,** _ **GoF**_ **would have only been 4947 words long (like this chapter) instead of 190,637, and you can't market a 4947 word book…**

 **A note on dates in this chapter in case you're interested. If you take a look at the very well-done resources available on the Harry Potter Lexicon, you'll note that JKR was a bit sloppy with her dates for** _ **Goblet of Fire**_ **. That is to say, the dates and days of the week that she mentions in the book do not match up with the actual calendar from 1994-1995. For example, in reality, October 31, 1994 fell on a Monday, while JKR has it fall on a Saturday. Which isn't that big of a deal… unless you happen to be writing a fan-fic where each scene starts with a date stamp. After much humming and hawing, and changing things a few times, I've decided to go with the actual calendar dates for the story. This has required some extensive editing on my part. If you've noticed an error with a date/day of the week, please let me know about it in a review. I'd like to keep things as consistent as possible.**

 **What did you think about the chapter? Let me know.**

 **Happy New Year!**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	11. XI

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

XI

 _Saturday, June 24, 1995_

The world swirled around him in a chaotic jumble of colors and shapes, the wind howled and buffeted him as if he were in the center of a tornado, and the Force screamed in warning and something that felt like agony as it couldn't seem to maintain its connection to the world.

And then Harry slammed down onto a something hard, collapsing face-first into the ground. He pushed himself up to his hands and knees as he vomited, spewing up seemingly everything he had eaten during the past week. Then he collapsed back to the ground and groaned – dizzy and disoriented, he couldn't seem to get his bearings in the Force.

A harsh voice called out, " _Stupefy_!"

There was a bright red light.

And then nothing.

OoOoO

OoOoO

It was pain that eventually brought him back to awareness.

A sharp, stabbing pain in his right arm. Harry felt like utter crap. He felt like he'd been run over by a bus and then tossed down a hillside into a fetid swamp. He groaned and tried curling into a ball, but his limbs weren't responding as they should. His mind felt sluggish, like he was stuck in a dense fog that wouldn't let him think. He cracked open his eyes to try and see what was around him.

It was still dark, so it couldn't have been too long since the end of the Third Task. He was in some sort of a graveyard with weathered headstones sprouting up from the ground in crooked rows all around him. Harry discovered that he was tied securely to one of the larger headstones, his wrists and ankles bound by thick ropes that barely allowed him any movement. Directly in front of him was a huge, black cauldron filled with swirling, green mist. It was resting on top of a roaring fire – Harry could feel the heat of its flames against his face.

Then he noticed that he wasn't alone. There were three figures standing around the cauldron. One was clearly Bartemius Crouch, the Ministry Official that had brought him there. Crouch was staring blank-faced into the distance, seemingly unaware of what was happening right in from of him.

The second figure had pale, slightly freckled skin and a mop of fair hair, but his face was lined and marred with the effects of years of anger and hatred. He held two wands in his hands and a fell light shone in his eyes as he stared at the swirling, green mist of the cauldron.

The third figure was turned away from Harry. Small of stature and with a slight hunch to his back, the balding man was speaking in solemn tones as he waved a dagger dripping with fresh blood toward to cauldron. From the sharp pain in his right arm, Harry guessed that the blood was his.

Harry shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. He closed his eyes and calmed his breathing, and then reached out to the Force.

It shouted to him in warning.

Harry's heart began to hammer in his chest as he realized the danger he was in. Adrenaline and fear both began to course through his veins. But Harry refused to let himself be ruled by fear. He sank himself deeper into the Force and there found the calm power of Life itself.

He reached out with his senses.

Hatred and malice assaulted his mind, they radiated from the cauldron and from the men surrounding it. Harry pushed those feelings aside and continued to stretch out with his feelings. The wound in his arm was serious. The muscle was crudely torn and it was bleeding freely. He used the Force to slow the bleeding and dull the pain, but anything further than that was beyond his skill. He lightly prodded his bonds with his mind, but they were tight and secure and pulsing with magic. He wouldn't be able to break them.

Harry had no idea what was going on, but he knew it wasn't good. He couldn't get away at the moment, and if the Force was right, he was in a lot of trouble. He needed to do something, but what? He was tied up and without his wand.

But he still had the Force.

He reached out further than he ever had before, searching for a presence that might be able to help him. If nothing else, he might be able to get a message across.

 _Hermione_ , he thought. _Ron…_ _Hear me…_

His thoughts sped off into the distance, but nothing returned. For a moment, Harry almost despaired at the futility of his action, but he kept trying – he had no other choice.

 _Hermione… Ron…_

Then he felt her.

 _Harry!_ Her voice resounded in his mind from very far away. _Oh, Harry! Where are you?! What happened?! That man just took you! Everything is in an uproar here!_

 _I don't know_ , he answered, _I'm in some sort of a graveyard. There's other wizards here and they've got me tied up while they do some sort of ritual or something._

 _I'll get the Headmaster, but where are you?! What do I tell him?!_

"Blood of the enemy," a haggard voice called out, "forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe!"

Harry opened his eyes again to see the figure in front of him wipe the blood off the dagger and drip it into the cauldron. The Force screamed in warning just before the fire beneath the now-boiling cauldron erupted into a column of flame that rose up into the heavens. The figures staggered back, but kept their eyes glued to the terrible magic in front of them.

And a dark presence tore its way through the Force and into the world.

Harry closed his eyes for one more moment. He tried to send Hermione anything that might help pinpoint his location – images and feelings of the graveyard, the faces of the wizards around him, names on the tombstones.

 _Tell Dumbledore something very dark and very strong is here._

 _Harry!_

Hermione's anxiousness was palpable in the Force, but he pulled his presence back to himself and focused on what was happening before him.

A moment later the pillar of fire was gone, leaving a dense could of smoke that slowly cleared away to reveal a tall, slender man. He was naked - his pale, scaly flesh seemed too bright in the darkness of the night. Long, boney fingers reached up to feel his smooth, hairless scalp. His face might have once held handsome features, but now its nose was simply gone, replaced by two small, reptilian slits. Finally, he opened his red eyes, and peered at the scene around him with malevolence.

"Robe," he spat in a voice that was high and clear.

The man with pale hair and lined features rushed forward and wrapped the figure in an elegant black robe before falling to his knees in worship.

"My Lord!" he cried in joy, "you have come back to us! The Dark Lord has returned!"

 _Dark Lord?_ Harry thought. _Oh, shit._

"Indeed I have, Barty," the figure said, "you have done well, and shall be rewarded. And I see you have brought you father – he shall be a useful tool."

"My Lord," the hunch-backed wizard called out while staggering to his knees and holding up his bleeding stump of an arm, "my Lord, please…"

The Dark Lord seemed almost dismissive of the man that had performed the ritual. "Barty, summon your brethren. And tell me, where is my wand?"

"Yes, my Lord. Wormtail has your wand, my Lord," Barty answered before placing the tip of his own wand against his left forearm.

"Please…" Wormtail continued to whimper.

"My wand, Wormtail."

The quivering man reached into his robes and drew out a long, white wand, which he quickly handed over. The Dark Lord seemed to grasp the implement with loving care and he inspected it with what was almost a gentle caress. Then he flicked it at the cowering figure and turned to walk away.

Wormtail screamed and fell writhing to the ground. Harry watched in horror as a silvery liquid latched onto the bleeding remains of the man's arm. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as it fused itself there before it shifted and molded itself into a bright, silver hand.

Wormtail panted and whimpered, but he eventually managed to gasp out his thanks.

"Th-thank you, my-my Lord…"

But the Dark Lord paid him little mind, as he was stalking toward Harry.

Harry could feel the hatred and anger radiating off of the wizard before him like heat from a furnace.

"Harry Potter" he said, "do you know who I am?"

Harry kept silent, refusing to speak.

"I am Lord Voldemort," he went on, seemingly without a care about Harry's lack of response. "Soon, I will be your death. And it will be slow, I assure you. For what you did to me, for what you made me endure these thirteen years, you are going to _suffer_! You are going to _beg_ for death!"

Harry could feel the dark wizard's hatred spike and flare in the Force. Those were definitely not empty threats.

But then Voldemort smiled.

"As soon as my wayward followers are here, we'll see what the legendary Boy-Who-Lived can do."

A few moments later, Harry felt the familiar warning in the Force of someone about to appear through Apparition. Over the next several minutes, figures in dark robes and masks with snake-like eyes popped into being throughout the graveyard. They gathered around their Lord, and Voldemort strode up and down, berating them and exhorting them, speaking of great plans, magnificent destinies, and terrible punishments for those that failed him.

Harry paid them little mind.

Instead, he focused on the Force. He let its Energy flow through him and fill him. He surrendered his anxiety, his fear, and his pain to its peace. The Force was his ally, his only ally at the moment. It would see him through whatever was to come next.

Suddenly his bonds were gone. He started to fall, but vice-like hands clasped him by the arms and threw him into the circle of robed figures.

Harry held onto the Force and the peace that it brought.

"Now," Voldemort continued his ranting speech, "that you might be sure of my power, you shall bear witness to the end of this so-called Boy-Who-Lived! You shall see that his apparent victory was nothing but mere luck! That his feeble power is nothing compared to my might! He is nothing but a _freak_! And only blind chance allowed him to survive this long."

Harry glanced around, looking for a way out, a way he could run. But he was completely surrounded.

"Let's watch the little boy dance!" Voldemort continued. " _Imperio_!"

Harry felt a dark presence enter into his mind. It was alien and cold, but also oddly familiar somehow. He staggered backwards, but then exerted his will and thrust the invader out of his head.

Voldemort smiled.

"Very good, Harry, very good." The Dark Lord turned to his followers with distain. "It seems the boy is stronger than so many of you and your claims of being placed under the Imperius Curse!"

Several of the assembled Death Eaters cowered back from their master.

"Barty!"

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Give the boy his wand."

Barty acted without question and threw Harry's familiar holly and phoenix feather wand at his feet. Harry bent down to pick it up.

"Now, then," Voldemort turned back to him, "we shall have a traditional wizard's duel. First we bow…"

Voldemort swished his wand and Harry felt a great weight pushing down on his shoulders, forcing him into a low bow.

"And now we fight! I'll even let you cast the first spell, Harry," the Dark Lord said as he crossed his arms in contempt. "Go on, take your best shot."

Harry thought furiously. He didn't really know any combat or serious dueling spells. He'd never had any need for them. He knew a few jinxes and hexes, sure, but he'd never even thought about being in a real magical fight. But he had to try something.

" _Expelliarmus_!" he shouted.

Voldemort just contemptuously swatted the flash of light aside.

"Is that all you have, Harry? Surely you can do better than that!" Voldemort actually laughed and a few of his followers hesitantly joined in as well.

Harry knew that he had no chance of beating Voldemort in a wizarding duel. He simply didn't know the right kind of spells or how and when to cast them, and he'd be no match for the Dark Lord's decades of experience. But magic wasn't the only tool available to him. So he gathered the energy of the Force to himself and held it like a coiled spring.

"Go on, Harry," Voldemort taunted, "I'll give you another shot."

Harry threw his arms forward and released the power of the Force.

It burst out of him in a concussive wave that threw Voldemort and his Death Eaters through the air. Harry crouched low as his enemies were still tumbling away from him, and ran from the now scattered wizards, sprinting with Force-assisted speed.

"Stop him!" Voldemort cried out behind him. "Stop the boy!"

Bright streaks of spellfire lit up the night. They slammed into the ground all around him, shattering tombstones and tearing up the earth.

Harry let the Force guide his movements. He dodged and spun and jumped and tumbled, he flowed from one movement to the next, never stopping his graceful race away from his deadly enemies.

The Force called out its familiar warning, and with a _crack_ one of the Death Eaters appeared right in front of him with wand raised.

But Harry was already spinning, his leg extended in a kick that shattered the man's knee. He cried out in pain, but didn't have time to fall, as Harry had already thrown him through the air with the Force.

He continued his dash through the gravestones, but he made little progress. The Death Eaters had him surrounded, and they kept apparating around him to cutoff his escape. Harry pushed and pulled at them with the Force, flinging them around like ragdolls as he ran and dodged their curses, but there were too many of them, and he couldn't afford to stop and fight back without making himself an easy target.

The Force called out in warning again, and Harry leapt as high into the air as he could just as the ground around him erupted into a thicket of sharp spikes.

But then something grabbed at him in midair, and he was thrown downward.

Harry screamed in pain as he slammed into the ground. There was a loud snap and a splash of liquid as pure agony erupted through his body. He looked down at himself to see his limbs twisted at odd angles, and a dull red spike protruding from his ruined stomach. His body twitched in pain and he coughed up blood. Cruel laughter answered his cries of agony as the spikes winked out of existence.

"It seems I underestimated you, Harry," the Dark Lord said as he strode up to the bleeding young wizard. "You did well, better than I thought possible. But you are no match for my power."

Harry felt Voldemort's hatred spike in the Force once again.

"You need to learn your place, boy. _Crucio_!"

Pain like nothing he'd ever felt before surged through Harry's body. He twisted and screamed on the ground as white-hot agony assaulted every fiber of his being. His body contorted itself, further tearing his wounds, his blood flowing freely into the cold earth. The pain was simply too much, and Harry felt his hold on the Force slip away from him.

Eventually the curse was lifted, and Harry curled into a quivering, bleeding ball. His vision was starting to fade, but he could still hear his tormentor's muffled voice.

"And now, Harry Potter, death has come for you."

But then there was a loud _crack_! that split the night air.

And then another and another.

"Tom," a new but familiar voice said. "Leave the boy be."

Harry summoned what remained of his strength to lift his head. His darkening vision was barely able to make out Dumbledore standing amidst the gravestones along with several witches and wizards all dressed in red robes.

"You're too late, old man!" Voldemort cried. "I've returned! I've returned from death itself! I am immortal and nothing you do can stop me!"

"We shall see about that," the Headmaster calmly replied.

And then light and sound and chaos exploded from everywhere all at once.

Harry wasn't able to follow what happened next. It was too fast, and he was too injured. He knew that he was bleeding out and that he needed to do something soon, but his body simply wouldn't do as he wanted.

And everything just seemed so dull and far away.

And then it all just faded into cold and darkness.

* * *

 **AN: Thoughts?**

 **Right. I'm back. The last month has been… interesting. Real life is being quite demanding of me at the moment, so I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to return to the once-a-week posting schedule; it's simply not possible and it would result in me posting chapters that simply weren't up to snuff. At this point, I think it's safe to say that you can look forward to a new chapter about once per month. At least for the foreseeable future.**

 **Don't worry though, I've actually got quite a bit of this drafted, so there's no danger of it being abandoned. I just have very little free time at the moment to work on it. Hopefully that will change soon.**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	12. XII

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

XII

 _Tuesday, June 27, 1995_

The first thing Harry noticed was the smell.

It was sterile, antiseptic, like too many cleaning potions had been used in a small area. There was also the slight tinge of ozone in the air, as if the _Scourgify_ and _Tergeo_ charms had been recently cast multiple times.

The second thing he noticed was the pain.

His body felt like one big bruise. He was sore everywhere, from his head down to the bottom of his feet. But the worst of it was in his abdomen – he felt the need to curl up, to wrap his arms and legs around his stomach, but he couldn't move his limbs for some reason, and that was more than a little confusing.

He groaned, and discovered that his throat was rather raw and sore too.

"Harry!" a familiar voice exclaimed somewhere nearby. "Oh, Harry! Don't try to move. I'll fetch the matron. I'll be right back!"

Something warm pressed against his forehead, but quickly disappeared.

His eyelids were exceedingly heavy, but he concentrated on blinking them open, and a bright, white blur greeted him. He tried to grope to the side to hopefully find his glasses, but again he found that his arm would not obey him.

He groaned again, hoping to attract someone's attention.

A few moments of silence went by, but he eventually heard footsteps approaching.

"Well, well, Mr. Potter," came a stern voice, "it's about time you rejoined the waking world."

He saw a blurry figure appear above him. It moved and then his vision cleared as his glasses were placed onto his face. He then recognized Madam Pomfrey.

He croaked, trying to say something, even though he was unsure exactly of what that was as his thoughts were still rather hazy.

"Don't try to speak just yet, Mr. Potter," Pomfrey instructed, "let's get some potions in you first to deal with the discomfort. Miss Granger, be a dear and bring that trolley over here."

Harry heard the clink of glass vials and bottles as Hermione apparently did as she was asked, but he couldn't turn his head to see what was actually going on around him. And then the Matron was holding a foul-smelling vial to his lips.

"Bottoms up, Mr. Potter."

He obedientally swallowed several disgusting potions, each one making him feel moderately better. The burning in his throat disappeared and the pain throughout his body lessened to a dull throb.

"Where am I?" Harry finally asked.

"You're at Hogwarts, of course," Hermione's voice answered as her head appeared beside the Matron's above him. "In the Hospital Wing."

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. That didn't sound right. He'd never been admitted to the Hospital Wing before…

"Why?"

"You mean you don't remember?" Pomfrey asked.

"Err… no?"

"Reach out to the Force, Harry," Hermione instructed. "It'll help."

It was good advice, Harry realized, even if it made Pomfrey look at the young witch with more than a little apprehension.

Harry closed his eyes and stretched out with his senses. He felt the Energy that connected all things coursing around him, and invited it to flow through him. With it came the understanding that his body was very seriously injured – he had many broken bones and damaged internal organs – but he was healing. In the Force, he also felt concern from Madam Pomfrey, as well as a confused mix of anxiousness, relief, helplessness, and joy from Hermione. But the Force also brought clarity to his mind, and his memory of exactly why he was in the Hospital Wing returned.

"Voldemort."

Madam Pomfrey hissed and nearly jumped away from him, while Hermione let out a soft squeak.

"It was Voldemort, wasn't it? He's back."

"Mr. Potter! I…" the Matron began, "I'd better get the Headmaster." She then scurried away.

"How long have I been here?" Harry asked Hermione once they were alone.

"Three days," she replied. "It's been awful. You were terribly wounded, Harry, _terribly_ …"

Tears welled up and spilled down the young witch's cheeks. She reached out and clasped his hand with one of her own while reaching up to wipe at her eyes with the other.

"But you're doing better now, and I'm glad you're awake."

"Why can't I move?"

"Madam Pomfrey has you immobilized while you heal," her voice gained a bit more surety as she began explaining his medical condition, "like I said, you were rather grievously wounded. You had broken several bones in your arms, ribs, and shoulders and completely shattered both of your femurs. Madam Pomfrey had to vanish them all and regrown them, the process apparently still has some time left. And then there's the damage to your internal organs that the stab through your abdomen caused – Pomfrey spent six hours in magical surgery on you, you know. Not to mention all the blood loss and the concussions…"

"How much longer do I have in here?"

"A few days at least, I would think. But you'll have to ask her. She said you're lucky that all the damage was done physically and not by curses, or else…"

Harry understood what she was saying without saying. Physical wounds were relatively easy to heal with the aid of magic, but injuries caused through dark curses could be very difficult, if not outright impossible to heal.

The doors to the Infirmary banged open and Harry heard footsteps running toward him. He recognized the newcomer's presence in the Force well before the mop of red hair appeared above him.

"Harry! Mate! You're awake!" Ron said.

"Apparently," he replied with a grimace, "although I kind of wish I wasn't…"

"Harry James Potter!" Hermione nearly yelled. "Don't you dare say that! This isn't something to joke about! I've been going out of my mind waiting for you to wake up!"

Harry was taken by surprise by the depth of emotion and pain behind her words that he could feel in the Force. She had _really_ been worried about him.

"Lay off him, Hermione," Ron answered, "Harry's got a right to say whatever he likes at the moment, I think!"

"This isn't some laughing matter, Ron! Our best friend was almost killed!"

"You don't think I bloody well know that?!"

"Then stop making a joke out of it!"

"I'm not! I'm just saying that if _Harry_ wants to, he's allowed!"

"Hey!" Harry interjected, silencing both of his friends. "It's not that big of a deal—"

"Not that big of a deal?!" Hermione nearly shrieked.

"That's not what I meant!" Harry said before she could get started again. "What I meant was, I'm sorry Hermione. I shouldn't have said what I did."

She looked down at him with eyes that were ready to spill over once again.

"You've obviously been having a rough go of it while I've been… out of it. I shouldn't have said that about not wanting to wake up. I'm sorry."

The witch nodded, letting him know that he was forgiven. They just stood there for a few minutes, silently waiting for someone to speak.

"So, err… How'd you know I was awake, Ron?"

"Easy. Felt you in the Force, mate."

"Oh."

"Ron and I have been taking turns keeping you company over the past few days," Hermione said.

"I've been taking turns," Ron added. "Hermione's set up camp in here. Don't know how she's convinced Pomfrey to let her stay…"

Hermione looked down to her feet as her cheeks flushed red. She kind of looked like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Ah. Let me guess," Harry said, "the Force can help you be rather… persuasive when you need to be?"

Hermione's eyes flew to his own. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"It's not… I wasn't…" she sputtered.

"Relax, Hermione," Harry smiled. "I'm sure that one little mind trick isn't going to lead you to the dark side. I'm sure you did it with the best of intentions."

Ron looked surprised.

"Why didn't I think of that?" he asked aloud. "In fact, I bet I could _persuade_ Professor Sprout to stop assigning us essays for the rest of the year!"

"Don't you dare even think about it, Ronald Weasley!"

"Too late!" Ron laughed, "already thought it!"

Harry chuckled but then winced as the slight movement jostled his sore ribs.

Silence settled in for a few more moments.

"So, he's really back then, isn't he?" Ron eventually asked.

Harry didn't need any clarification about his friend's reference.

"Yes, he is," he answered.

"Bloody bastard," Ron said.

"Quite."

"Don't worry, Harry," the red-head continued, "we're with you in this all the way. We'll see that those bastards get theirs and teach them not to mess with us!"

"Ron…"

"Don't worry about it right now," Ron continued. "I'm just saying you can count on us. And when the moment comes, we'll give that _freak_ what's coming to him! I'll see to it personally!"

The doors swung open once again and Harry felt the presences of Dumbledore and Pomfrey enter the room. Ron and Hermione shuffled a bit to make space for them around the bed.

"Ah, Harry!" the old wizard said in greeting. "So good to have you back with us. Madam Pomfrey tells me that you shall be right as rain and back to wreaking havoc upon your Quidditch rivals in no time."

"Sir, what happened?" Harry asked. "The last thing I remember, _he_ was there, about to kill me, but then you were there too, and then it all went dark…"

"It appears I arrived just in the nick of time, as it were. Miss Granger here was able to give me enough information to get a general sense of the area you were in, and then when you cast a Disarming Charm, the Ministry was able to pinpoint your location through the Trace. I hadn't exactly been idle after you disappeared, and once I knew where you were, I brought a hastily assembled Auror team to fetch you. It was a good thing I did too."

"Oh."

"It was quite the confrontation," Dumbledore continued. "Voldemort and most of his followers fled rather hastily – he was not prepared to meet such a show of opposition so soon. But we've dealt him a serious blow in that his return is now widely known - I believe he would have rather preferred to be able to build his strength in secret. Now he'll have to face a Ministry that is gearing up for war."

"Well that's good," Hermione commented.

"Indeed it is. As is the fact that we were able to identify a few of the Death Eaters, including two that were believed to already be dead… But that's neither here nor there at the moment. Harry, I'm afraid I must ask if you're feeling up to answering a few questions for me. Voldemort's return is causing quite an uproar at the Ministry and in the papers. I'm afraid that you're going to need to make a witness statement at some point, and it's best to do so while the memory is as fresh as possible."

"Alright."

"Splendid! Madam Pomfrey, would you please see to it that we are not disturbed? Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, I think it's time you were off to your common room."

"But—" Hermione started to object.

"Now, now, Miss Granger," Dumbledore answered, "I assure you that I will keep careful watch over Mr. Potter. He will come to no harm. And I do think that you could use a bit of rest yourself."

Hermione seemed somewhat mollified by the Headmaster's words. Harry could feel her hesitation, but she eventually left with Ron, and Harry found himself alone with the Headmaster.

"Now then," Dumbledore said, "why don't you start at the beginning…"

Harry spoke at length about what had happened, starting with the end of the Third Task and how Crouch had approached him with a hidden portkey. The Headmaster seemed a bit surprised by the sheer amount of detail that Harry was able to recall. He was especially interested in the way Harry was immediately able to throw off the Imperious Curse and eject the Dark Lord from his mind, but he only occasionally asked questions for his own clarification. For the most part, seemed content to let Harry go on with his narrative.

"There is one thing I do not understand," Dumbledore said some hours later, "how exactly did you manage to get your message to Miss Granger? You were tied up and without your wand. How did you do it?"

"Err…" Harry hesitated. Something within him rebelled at the thought of telling the Headmaster, or really anyone at all about the Force and his Jedi training. He wasn't exactly sure why he felt that way. The Jedi were never a secret organization, their teachings were never guarded and kept away from those seeking to know about them.

But then he remembered back to his first year. He'd tried telling others about the Jedi, only to be dismissed, laughed at, or called crazy. And then there was the fact that when he'd finally agreed to teach Hermione and Ron, he'd done so on the condition that they kept the entire arrangement absolutely secret. The Holocron had told him that he was forbidden to take on students, and he was afraid that if they talked about the Force, word would somehow get back to the tiny holographic image of Master Isu, and he'd be cut off from any further training. But that was the irrational thinking of an eleven year-old boy. How could Dumbledore possibly talk to the Holocron about what he'd been doing?

Besides, this was important. Voldemort was back and the good guys needed to know what was going on. There were more important things at stake that his private Jedi training. And if he couldn't trust Dumbledore with what he was doing, who could he trust?

"Okay," Harry finally responded, "this is going to sound a little crazy…"

"Don't worry about that, my boy," the old wizard answered with a twinkle in his eyes, "I've heard and seen and done more craziness in my lifetime that you could possibly imagine."

"Right. Well… Have you ever heard of the Force?"

Once again, the minutes and hours passed by as Harry talked about the Force, the Jedi, and his training. He recounted the events from his life before Hogwarts about finding the Holocron and practicing the teachings that he learned about from it. He talked about his theory that magic and the Force were similar, but yet different – one coming from within the person, while the other was outside in the world, and how he thought that any witch or wizard might be able to learn to use the Force. He talked about how he'd been teaching Hermione and Ron since their first year when they'd seen him use the Force to defeat the troll. He even gave a small demonstration by effortlessly levitating the Headmaster in his conjured chair without the use of his wand or an incantation, but solely through the power of the Force.

Dumbledore's eyes shone brightly as he listened with rapt attention to everything that Harry was saying.

"Astounding," the old wizard finally said. "Simply astounding. To think that there is an entire area of magic, or perhaps an area related to magic, that is all around us and has as of yet gone completely unnoticed. Thank you for telling me about this, Harry. I assure you that I will not betray the trust you have placed in me. But I also must caution you against revealing anything about the Force or your Jedi training to anyone else, and please, insist upon Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley that they do likewise."

"Why?" Harry asked, sensing that the matter was of great concern to the Headmaster. "I know why I was afraid to tell anyone before, but why not tell anyone now?"

Dumbledore sighed and seemed to deflate a bit, as if a great weight of responsibility was pressing down upon his shoulders. He slashed his wand, and cast several spells throughout the room and around the bed before turning his attention back to Harry.

"Normally I wouldn't tell something like this to a mere student of your age, Harry. No one should be burdened with such knowledge while they are yet still so young. But you have a wisdom that is beyond your years, perhaps it has been granted to you by your Force. And you also deserve to know the truth. You have a right to it, indeed more of a right to it than I have myself."

It was now Harry's turn to listen with rapt attention.

"What you are about to hear, my boy, will likely be rather painful, and for that I am terribly sorry. You see, there is a prophecy concerning yourself and Lord Voldemort. It all started back in 1980 when I was interviewing candidates for the Divination position here at Hogwarts…"

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Friday, June 30, 1995_

Harry slowly made his way up the stairs to his dormitory. He was absolutely certain that without the aid of the Force, he wouldn't have been unable to make the climb. His body was still rather weak, but at least it was whole. Now he really only needed plenty of rest and good food to get back to full health, and Madam Pomfrey had reluctantly admitted that he could get that in Gryffindor Tower just as well as he could get it in the Infirmary.

Even though she still insisted that he had to report to her twice a day until he eventually departed on the train so that she could check on his progress. But Harry realized that there was no use in arguing with her on that point, if he did, the Matron would probably just tie him to the hospital bed until the fall term started.

Harry shuffled into the room and sat down on his bed. As it was midmorning, his dormmates were all still in class, and Harry had the room to himself. He closed his eyes and reached out to the Force.

At the foot of the bed, the latches on his trunk popped open, and then the lid tilted up. Harry smirked as the entire contents of the trunk began to swirl around his bed, making a slow orbit about him as he steadied his Force-meditation.

He never did learn how to control that…

Pulsing, blue light lit up the room as the Holocron came to float in front of his face and the tiny figure of Jedi Master Isu Sotr winked into existence.

 _Young Harry._

"Master Isu."

 _You do not look well, young Harry. Has something happened?_

"Yeah. You don't know the half of it. Let me tell you all about my past week, a guy named Tom, and a bloody prophecy…"

Harry related everything that had happened to the Holocron. He talked about the end of the tournament and the ritual in the graveyard, but also about his apparently prophesized battle yet-to-come with Voldemort. He mentioned some of Dumbledore's ideas, and how the old wizard thought that the Force and the teachings of the Jedi might actually be the 'Power He Knows Not' mentioned by the prophecy.

"So, as you might imagine, I could really use some advice," Harry finished.

 _These are dark times that you find yourself in, young Harry. The rise of a Dark Lord is not something to be taken lightly. And yet it is the duty of the Jedi to meet such foes wherever they might be. Worry not overmuch about the prophecy - the future is always in motion, it can never be nailed down and determined by visions and prophecies. The future will come to pass as the Force wills it._

 _You may not yet hold the rank of Jedi Knight, young Harry, but a Jedi you are. You must meet this challenge with the courage and determination that are essential to all members of the Jedi Order. Regardless of prophecies, this is your destiny. The Force does not act lightly. You did not find this Holocron by accident. Your world will soon have need of a Jedi, and so the Force has seen to it that you are prepared._

"But how can I possibly fight someone like Voldemort? I'll never be able to match him. He's got decades of experience on me, and he's apparently the greatest master of the Dark Arts that's ever lived. I'll never even touch him with a spell! It would take me a lifetime to even be able to stand up to him in a duel. How can I possibly hope to fight someone like that?"

 _Then do not fight him as a wizard, young Harry. A wizard you may be, but are you not also more? As I said, you are a Jedi, therefore, fight him as a Jedi._

"But how?" Harry asked. "What I've learned is great for dodging out of the way of spells and pushing a few Death Eaters around, but I doubt a mind trick is going to work on Voldemort. How am I supposed to actually _fight_ him?"

 _With the Force as you ally and with a Jedi's weapon at your side,_ the little blue image answered.

 _The time has come for you to construct your lightsaber._

* * *

 **AN: Thoughts?**

 **I've gotten some questions and comments about how quickly Harry has been able to learn to use the Force. If you're interested in this topic, i.e., the rate at which someone learns Force techniques, check out the new post in my forums. I posted it a few weeks ago, but this is the first chance I've had to advertise it. There's a link in my profile.**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	13. XIII

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

XIII

 _Monday, July 17, 1995_

Harry stared intently at the jumble of metal, wiring, and circuitry that was floating in front of him as he inspected it all one last time. He peered at each piece, looking for any sort of defect whatsoever.

"Are you sure this is all correct?" he asked aloud.

 _Yes, young Harry_ , the Holocron floating nearby responded, _as far as I can tell, you have managed to fashion the technical components for your lightsaber to the exact specifications provided._

Initially Harry was rather doubtful that he'd be able to build the weapon that was apparently a constitutive element of being a Jedi. From what Master Isu had described, Harry didn't think that such technology existed anywhere on earth and he was certain that he wouldn't be able to build such a thing by himself.

But with the guidance and technical direction provided by the Holocron, a significant amount of trial and error, and a lot of assistance from the Force, Harry was able to assemble the necessary components for his lightsaber from surprisingly common materials, even if he had little understanding of what most of it was or what the individual pieces did. It was easy enough to understand what a 'focusing lens' did or what a 'pommel cap' was for, but he didn't have the slightest notion of what the 'magnetic stabilizing loop,' 'cycling field energizers,' or 'power vortex ring' were about. Yet the Holocron kept assuring him that he had constructed everything correctly and that he had everything he needed.

Except for the most important part, of course.

"You're sure?" he asked again.

 _Yes, young Harry. You lightsaber will function perfectly well once you find your crystal._

"Right. My crystal."

That was going to be the hard part – finding a kyber crystal. According to the Holocron, a kyber crystal was the heart of each lightsaber. Also known as 'living crystals,' they were rare, Force-attuned crystals that naturally grew on scattered planets across the galaxy.

Harry had objected in that he had no means for leaving planet earth let alone searching the galaxy, but the Holocron insisted that if a Jedi had need of a crystal, the Force would provide one.

It was part of every Jedi's training to go on a quest to find a kyber crystal that called to him, that bonded with him, and to bring it back for the completion of his lightsaber. Harry was struck by how similar that sounded to a witch or wizard getting their first wand – not that they had to go on a quest, but as old Mr. Ollivander said, it was the wand that chose the wizard. Apparently there was something similar going on with kyber crystals.

Harry turned to the tiny, hovering figure of Master Isu.

"You're sure that I'll be able to find a kyber crystal somewhere here on earth?"

 _The Force will provide you with what is necessary for your destiny._

"Right. Well, let's do this then."

He waved his hand, and the carefully-constructed lightsaber components floated into their make-shift case, which in turn floated into Harry's backpack. The blue light of the Holocron faded to a tiny pinprick at the center of the crystal cube and the image of Master Isu winked out as it joined the saber components in the bag.

Harry then quickly used the Force to return all of his belongings that were orbiting about him in the room to their proper places. He checked over his supplies one last time. He had food and water, plenty of both wizarding galleons and Muggle pounds (thanks to a very… _understanding_ Aunt Petunia), spare clothing, his wand, a few blankets, his Nimbus 2000, and his rarely-used invisibility cloak that he had mysteriously received during his first Christmas at Hogwarts. He still suspected it was from the Headmaster, but he'd never been able to verify that theory.

He didn't have much that would make the journey comfortable, but that was apparently part of the point. The quest was supposedly about penance and purification as much as it was about building a lightsaber, so Harry was prepared to be roughing it.

Everything was ready. He closed up his bag, tied his shoes, glanced at the note he'd left on his desk, and made his way downstairs.

Now he just needed to slip past his minder.

They were a new and rather unwelcome addition to Number Four, Privet Drive. Apparently Dumbledore had decided that Harry's status as Voldemort's number one target warranted a round-the-clock bodyguard stationed at his house. It made sense, of course, but that didn't mean that Harry had to like it. Or that he had been consulted about the fact. And he especially didn't like the fact that the guards simply expected him to obey their orders to remain in the house for the entirety of the summer break.

He tried reasoning with them, but once they'd gotten over the shock that he could easily sense their presences despite their invisibility cloaks or Disillusionment Charms, they all simply told him to stay put and be a good lad. Dumbledore's orders.

It was for occasions like that that Harry sometimes wished he had his own owl. Then he could have sent the Headmaster a rather strongly-worded letter.

Harry stopped just inside the kitchen door and reached out with his senses. His minder was in the front yard, staring out at the street and feeling rather bored. He slipped out the back door, mounted his broom, and pulled his invisibility cloak over himself. He sent a subtle nudge at his minder through the Force, just enough to distract the wizard for a moment or two, and then he was off, slowly gliding away, still close to the ground, but away from Number Four.

He closed his eyes as he flew, trusting his feelings to guide him around any danger or obstacle that might appear in his way. He reached out further and further with his senses, out into the living Force. He let it fill him and overwhelm him.

 _Where do I go now?_ was the thought that Harry held in his mind, asking the Force to take up the desire and lead him through it. _Where can I find a kyber crystal for my lightsaber?_

And he felt the gentle pull, the invitation from the Force, the call that he might follow should he so choose.

Harry smiled.

And he sped off as the Force directed.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Tuesday, August 15, 1995_

Harry smirked to himself as he followed the tour group through the caves. The glittering minerals in the stone walls were just like he remembered.

"Up ahead and to the right is the entrance to Saul's Labyrinth," the tour guide explained, "a huge complex of twisting tunnels. It's never been fully mapped or explored, but our best estimate is that there's over fifty miles of caverns in that one section alone."

It had been exactly eight years ago to the day that Harry had found the Holocron in those very caves. What were the chances that the Force would eventually lead him back here?

 _Actually_ , Harry thought to himself, _probably pretty good. I ought to've checked here first thing now that I think about it…_

"Please do not enter the Labyrinth," the tour guide continued. "We actually had a boy get lost in there a few years ago, it's very easy to get disoriented in the twisting tunnels. We'd rather not have to send out any search parties today, so like I said at the beginning, please stay with the group."

Harry raised his hand.

"Yes?" the guide asked.

"Did you ever find him?"

"Who?"

"The boy that got lost in the Labyrinth. Did you ever find him? Or is he still wandering around down there to this day?"

"Actually," the guide answered with a concentrated look on his face, "if I remember correctly, the boy somehow managed to find his own way out. Not that I was around back then, but that's what I've been told. The park rangers still consider him to be something of a mascot for the caves. Now then, on to our next station."

Harry held back, lingering by the entrance to the Labyrinth. He sent a gentle Force-nudge at the tour guide, just enough that he would think there was one less person in his group than he had counted at the beginning. He didn't want to cause a fuss for the park rangers once again. They'd been rather nice to him when he wandered into the Labyrinth the first time around after all.

He smiled and embraced the Force more fully, and then stepped into the twisting and winding caverns.

OoOoO

OoOoO

He walked alone for hours. Any other person would've probably given themselves up as lost by then. But even though a part of him felt like he was wandering in circles, Harry had the Force, and it beckoned him ever forward, and he trusted its call.

He continued through the narrow passages, his eyes closed and his helmet mounted torch switched off. Down there in the in the darkness and silence, Harry had no need of any other sense but the Force – it would guide him to his long journey's completion.

The quest probably shouldn't have taken as long as it did, his Nimbus was probably capable of making the trip from Surrey to the caves in only a few hours, but it had taken him nearly a month, twenty nine whole days to get there. Apparently the Force felt the need to lead him on a rather circuitous route, taking him through cities and countrysides, all over England. He had no idea why that was the case. He'd thought about it often enough as he tried to sleep on the hard ground or scrounged around for bits of food, but no answer or understanding came to him. So he just kept on following wherever his senses were inviting him to go.

The Force hadn't failed him yet after all.

Although he was sure that there would be a few people that were rather angry with him for his long absence when he eventually got back.

The feeling in the air suddenly shifted.

He stopped.

This was it.

Here.

The Force was leading him to that exact place.

He opened his eyes, but of course saw nothing but complete darkness. He switched on his torch, but it's faint, focused light gave him little real help other than that he could tell he was standing in a small, cramped chamber. He was going to need more light.

With a thought and an act of will, the Holocron floated out of his backpack. It pulsed with cerulean light, and as the little image of Master Isu appeared, the chamber was bathed in a soft blue glow.

 _Young Harry_ , the figure greeted.

"Did you know that you make a great lamp?" Harry asked.

 _That is not within the intended functions of this Holocron_.

"You have no sense of humor."

 _A sense of humor was not deemed necessary for either the primary or the secondary purposes of this Holocron, and was thus not included in its design._

"I noticed," Harry replied as he looked around the chamber. It was tiny, but in the reflected light of the Holocron, Harry could easily make out a corner that was covered in little crystals. They were growing out of the surface of the rock, tiny but brilliant little jewels that felt weighty in the Force.

"So those are kyber crystals, then?"

 _Yes. Those are indeed kyber crystals._

"How in Merlin's name did they get to be down here?"

 _I am afraid that I do not have any information relevant to that question in my data matrices._

"Well, we're in the same cave complex where I found you - that can't be coincidence."

 _Probability would dictate that you are correct. Perhaps the Jedi that brought this Holocron to these caves also brought a kyber crystal with him that acted as a seed. The one that was likely housed within his lightsaber would have sufficed. Kybers are alive in a certain sense. Given enough time, the crystals grow and spread. From the size of that cluster, it can be estimated that those crystals have been growing for over twenty thousand years._

"Twenty thousand years?"

 _Approximately_.

"That's not a very big bunch of crystals for twenty thousand years."

 _It is sufficient. You shall only need one small shard. There are enough kyber crystals present in that formation to build hundreds of lightsabers._

"Oh. Okay, well, how do I pick one?"

 _Let the Force guide you. If you are truly ready, the crystal will choose you._

"Right."

Harry closed his eyes once again and reached out toward the little patch of crystals with both his right hand and his senses. Their presence was heavy in the Force, and they seemed to sing with power. They were all different, each with its own little distinguishing marks and shapes, each with its own subtle but unique presence in the Force.

One seemed to sing to him a bit more loudly than the others. He focused on it, and it called to him, reaching out with its very presence. And the crystal felt familiar, it felt like… himself.

He reached out and gently plucked the crystal off the rocky surface with his thumb and forefinger. It came away easily, but its presence thundered into Harry's mind. Finding this crystal was something… momentous, it was an occasion worthy of note and remembrance.

And then Harry felt with the utter certainty that could only come through the Force that the crystal was truly a part of him, a little piece of himself that he'd never known was missing before, but now that he had it, he suddenly felt complete.

Whole.

One.

Its presence sang within his mind - a song of peace and defense and knowledge, and Harry felt his own presence adding to the music, harmonizing in a way he didn't even know was possible.

"This is it," he finally said to himself after what must have been an hour just standing there, holding the tiny crystal shard and mentally singing along with the music of its presence. "This is my kyber crystal."

He sat down and folded his legs beneath him. His backpack once again opened seemingly of its own accord and out floated the technical components that Harry had worked so hard upon. He released the crystal, and it floated up to join the swirling jumble of parts and pieces.

It was so simple. Now that he had the crystal, he could see how and why it all fit together. It was an elegant design, beautiful in its simplicity.

The Force guided Harry's will, Harry guided the crystal, and the crystal sang out within the melody of the Force itself. Together, they gave voice to the great symphony of Life and Energy and Harmony that bound the galaxy together.

And as the music of the Force built, the crystal and other components quickly and snuggly fit themselves together into a nearly foot-long, cylindrical, silver tube. It was simple in appearance; a belt ring at one end, followed by a metal grip that was covered in black leather, and then a couple of knobs and buttons near the emitter at the top. A casual glance would probably mistake it for an electric torch.

Harry held out his hand, and the lightsaber flew into his grasp. He held it gently and carefully, inspecting what he already knew to be its flawless construction. The song of the kyber crystal at its center was even louder now in Harry's mind, the music of the Force amplified by the fact that its purpose was fulfilled.

Harry's kyber crystal had taken its rightful place in the heart the most important tool of any Jedi. An instrument not of war and aggression, but an elegant weapon meant to help further the cause of civilization, to ensure peace and defend life in all its many forms. And Harry felt complete with it grasped in his hand.

He thumbed the activation switch, and a sharp _snap-hiss_ and electric _thrum_ echoed in the cavern. Brilliant blue light scintillated off the flashing energy-blade. He marveled at the glowing, sapphire light that could cut through just about anything with ease. It seemed impossible that a thing of such beauty could be used for violence, but he knew that all weapons were meant for deadly purposes, even if only as a last resort.

He twirled it in his hands, listening to its _thrum_ as it cut through the air. He went through a few quick motions of one of his Jedi katas just to get a better feel for it, but there was little room to maneuver within the cavern.

Harry smiled in pure joy. He felt a new confidence, a new assurance of purpose fill him. He was meant for this. He still had much to learn and more training to endure, but he had never felt more _himself_ than in that moment, filled with the strength of the Force and wielding his very own lightsaber.

* * *

 **AN: What did you think?**

 **I know, I know, it's been quite a while. But I haven't had much free time at all really. I haven't even had a chance to read a bunch of fics that I've been following. But like I've said before, I'm still working on this when I can and it will eventually be finished. No promises on when though…**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	14. XIV

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

XIV

 _Friday, September 1, 1995_

Harry was quietly reading his Transfiguration textbook while he waited for his friends to arrive at Platform 9 ¾ and join him in his compartment. He was always one of the first students to board the train since his relatives were still anxious to send him off to school as quickly as possible each year. Transfiguration wasn't really his favorite subject, but the reading helped pass the time.

He was suddenly shaken out of his thoughts by a thunderous presence that was storming its way through the Force. He leapt to his feet and his instincts screamed at him to draw his newly-fashioned lightsaber, but he recognized the presence that was coming, and realized that doing so would only make things worse.

Hermione was coming, and she was _pissed_.

That was _not_ good.

" _HARRY JAMES POTTER_!" she roared as she burst into the compartment before slamming the door shut behind her. She reached back and swung her arm forward, slapping him _hard_ across the face. "Do you have any _idea_ what you put me through this summer?! Do you?!"

"Hermione—" he tried to interrupt her but failed.

"Of all the _stupid_ , hair-brained, imbecilic things to do! How could you run off like that?!"

"Hermione—"

"Dumbledore was going _spare_ trying to find you after you slipped away from your guards! And no one had any idea where you went! And did you think of maybe letting _me_ know what you were doing? NO! Of course not! Harry _Bloody_ Potter can't be bothered to let his best friends know that he's running off like an idiot!"

"Hermione—"

"I'd expect an immature stunt like this from Ron, but I thought you knew better! The only reason you're still breathing right now is that I could sense that you were alive and unhurt!"

" _Hermione_!"

" _WHAT_?!"

"Hermione, you're angry."

"Of course I'm bloody angry! Caught on to that, did you?!"

"No, Hermione… listen to me. You're. Angry."

"Are you trying to make me angrier, Harry? Because you're doing a marvelous job so far!"

"Think, Hermione! You're right of course, I'm a complete idiot. I'll let you beat me to a pulp in just a second, but please, you've got to calm down. You know better than this! I know that I deserve your anger, but _you_ don't deserve what it's going to do to you! You're a Jedi! You know what this will lead to if you let it control you!"

Hermione snapped her mouth shut, cutting off whatever she was about to say next. She glared at him for a long moment and exhaled a long breath through her nose.

"Bloody Harry Potter always being bloody right…" she grumbled as she closed her eyes.

Her body visibly trembled as Harry felt her embrace the Force and release her anger into it. She lingered in the meditation for a long moment, calming herself and bringing her emotions under control before she opened her eyes once again.

"Better?" Harry asked.

"Quite," she replied.

Harry slowly sat down and Hermione did likewise on the seat across from him.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," she said after a long, quiet moment.

"S'okay," Harry answered as he lifted a hand to rub against his stinging cheek. "I deserved it."

"Yes you did. But you're right. I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have let my anger get such a strong hold on me. I'm normally better than that. I thought I knew myself better than that."

"We all make mistakes every once in a while."

"Yes, but we can't afford to make mistakes that could lead to the dark side. I didn't even realize how close I was getting…"

"But you didn't," Harry said. "You stopped yourself in time. That's what matters."

"You stopped me."

"Friends don't let friends fall to the dark side."

Hermione smirked at that.

"You're still a prat of a friend for what you did this summer."

"Yeah… I didn't quite expect my… _errand_ to take that long…"

"Errand? Harry, you were missing for a _month_."

The compartment door slid open and Ron stuck his head in.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked.

"Come on in, you," Hermione answered. "We were just discussing what a bloody prat Harry has been over the summer."

"Hermione!" Ron laughed. "Language!"

The witch in question dramatically stuck her nose up in the air.

"My choice of language is entirely appropriate to the context."

Ron turned to look at Harry while he sat next to the brunette witch.

"You've really bollocksed it up this time, mate, if _Hermione_ thinks swearing is warranted."

"She's probably right," Harry replied.

"So what are we laying into the Boy-Who-Lived for, then?"

"His amazing disappearing act that he pulled over the summer."

"Oh right," Ron said. "Yeah, me mum went right spare when Dumbledore flooed looking for you."

Hermione nodded in what Harry took for agreement with Mrs. Weasley's reaction.

"So where did you run off to?" Ron asked.

"Well, err… The Force kind of had a… quest… for me."

"The Force is giving out quests now?" Ron asked with a smile.

"Shush, Ronald," Hermione admonished him, "or I'll slap you too."

"She bloody _slapped_ you?!"

"That's not important right now," Hermione quickly answered. "You were saying, Harry?"

"Right. Well, you both know what happened in June." Harry's two friends nodded. "Well, it seemed like it was time for me to step things up to the next level. If Voldemort's gonna come after me, I've got to be able to defend myself. And I'll never be able to match him with a wand, so I'll have to do it as a Jedi."

Hermione raised one questioning eyebrow at him.

"So, what does that mean?" Ron asked.

"Hermione? Can you ensure us some privacy?" Harry asked.

She regarded him for another moment before she drew her wand and cast several spells at the door, locking it, silencing it, sealing it, and tinting the windows until they were completely black.

"Right then," Harry said as he stood up. "I'm going to defend myself with this."

He summoned his lightsaber with the Force and it flew out from under his robes and into his waiting hand.

"What's that?" Ron asked, "one of them, what are they called? 'Lectrick torchies'?"

Harry didn't respond, instead he just thumbed the activation switch. The blue energy-blade burst into existence with its sharp _snap-hiss_. He spun it around in a couple of careful circles and let the weapon _thrum_ as it cut through the air.

"This is a lightsaber," Harry proclaimed to his shocked friends. "It's the traditional weapon of the Jedi. Armed with these, they were able to keep the peace throughout the galaxy for thousands of generations."

"Bloody hell!" Ron shouted.

"Language…" Hermione absentmindedly admonished.

"Oh, _now_ we're worried about language?!" Ron replied. "Harry's got himself a bloody _magic_ _sword_ and it doesn't deserve even a _little_ bit of swearing?!"

Hermione hesitated for a second before replying.

"Fine," she eventually said. "But no more."

Harry chuckled.

"Anyways," he said, "like I was saying, this is a lightsaber. The blade can supposedly cut through just about anything. And it has so far on everything I've tested it with. Went right through a steel bar like it was nothing."

"Wow," Hermione said. "The strongest Cutting Curses have difficulty getting through hard metals like that."

Harry smiled.

"Yeah, and it can apparently do more too. But I've still got more testing to do with it."

"Why didn't you tell us about these things before?!" Ron nearly cried. "We could've been learning how to use those things this whole time!"

"What do you think we've been learning?" Hermione answered while Harry could see the wheels spinning in her head. "You didn't think we spent so much time swatting at acorns with our staffs for nothing, did you?"

" _That_ was lightsaber training?"

"Yep." Harry answered.

"Huh."

Harry released the activation switch and the blade shrank back into the hilt. He moved to reattach it to his belt, but Hermione stood and stretched out her hand.

"May I?"

Harry gave her a playfully questioning look.

"You owe me, Potter."

"Indeed I do," he replied as he handed it over.

Hermione immediately drew in a sharp breath.

"Harry!" she cried, "Oh my! That's—! Did you…? It _feels_ just like you! It's like it's part of your Force-presence!"

Harry smiled.

"It is."

"But how?"

"Well, that gets back to me being such a prat over the summer. In order to build a lightsaber, a Jedi needs to go on a sort of Force-quest to find the most important part, the kyber crystal. At the heart of every lightsaber is one of these Force-sensitive crystals, and the crystal needs to be… well, maybe attuned? Or bonded to the Jedi? I'm not really sure of the right word. But it's like how Mr. Ollivander described wands—"

"As in, 'The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Weasley'?" Ron asked, managing to do a decent impersonation of old Ollivander in the process.

"Exactly," Harry replied. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley."

The _snap-hiss_ and electric _thrum_ once again filled the compartment as Hermione activated the saber.

"This is amazing…" Hermione murmured as she gave it a few careful swings. "I've never seen anything even remotely like it."

"Give it here, woman!" Ron playfully demanded.

"Watch it, you!" she responded. "I'm sure this would have no trouble cutting through a Weasley, no matter how dense you are!" But she deactivated it and handed it over nonetheless.

"Oh har har," Ron said as he took his turn inspecting the lightsaber.

Eventually, he finished and the saber was once again tucked away beneath Harry's robes.

"So, you pulled your disappearing act so you could go off in search of the crystal you needed?" Hermione asked.

"Yep," Harry answered.

"Why did it take so long?"

"I've no idea, really. I just followed the will of the Force until it lead me to the crystals. Probably the only bunch of them on the whole planet…"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Still, I don't know why it took so long. I was on my Nimbus the whole time. After I found them, it only took me about four hours to fly back home. I don't know why the Force led me around in circles for a whole month to get there."

"Well that only leaves one question," Ron stated.

"What's that?"

"When you gonna show us how to make ours?"

Harry smirked at him.

"You think McGonagall will let you skive off school for a month?"

"Shite…"

"Language!"

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Saturday, January 13, 1996_

Seamus Finnigan threw his copy of the _Daily Prophet_ down on the table in front of him in disgust. He was sitting with Dean in a corner of the Gryffindor common room while the other boy finished his homework. There were only a few of their housemates around at the moment. Ron and Lavender were sounding like they were getting into another argument on the couch in front of the fire. Ginny was chatting with a few of her friends near one of the other couches. And Romilda was over with some fourth-years by the windows. But other than that, the room was pretty empty.

"I still can't believe it," he said aloud.

"Believe what?" Dean absentmindedly asked.

"What do you mean, 'what'? Azkaban! You-Know-Who breaks his bleedin' followers out and you act like there's nothin' going on!"

"Calm down, mate," Dean responded without looking up from his essay.

"You're a bugger," Seamus answered.

"Yeah, well, your mum would know all about that."

"Oi! You leave me mam out of this, you little—"

But whatever he was going to say next was interrupted by the shouting from near the fireplace.

"What's it going to take for you to understand, Ron?!" Lavender yelled.

"Come on, Lav," Ron answered, "you know you liked it!"

"That has nothing to do with it! It was a mistake! I don't know why I was okay with it before, but I shouldn't have said yes!"

Seamus along with the others that were in the common room were now all shamelessly staring at the argument that was unfolding before them. Good entertainment was hard to find after all.

Lavender looked really worked up, he thought. She looked like she was ready to break out into angry tears at any moment. Ron would do well to shut his hole before he got hexed something painful.

"Don't be like that…" Ron said.

"No, Ron! You're not listening!" Lavender shouted. "You never listen! I told you it's not going to happen again! I'm sorry. But I was confused. I don't know what came over me last time. But it's not happening again and that's all there is to it!"

"You're not making any sense! All I want is to—"

"I bloody well know what it is you want, Ronald Bilius Weasley!" she yelled as her tears ran down her cheeks. "It's the same thing that you _pigs_ always want! It was a _mistake_ , okay? I don't know what came over me, but I'm just not ready for that. Stop trying to convince me otherwise!"

"I don't know why you're being such a bloody bitch about it…"

The loud _smack_ of Lavender slapping Ron across the face reverberated through the silent common room.

"Weasley!" she tearfully shouted. "You are the single _biggest_ asshole that has ever stepped foot inside Hogwarts! That's the last time I'm ever going to touch you and I'll see to it that no other witch is dumb enough to make the same mistakes I did either! We're through!"

She turned and fled from the common room and up the girls' staircase.

Ron just stared after her for a moment before he realized that the argument had drawn quite a bit of attention. He glared at everyone in the room, obviously furious.

Seamus was wondering what the berk would say to defend himself, but Ginny ran up to him and practically dragged the git out into the corridors.

 _Good_. Seamus thought. He knew that the fiery witch had a sharp tongue and was quick with her wand. Maybe she could curse some sense into her older brother.

"I wonder what that was about," Seamus asked.

"Dunno," Dean responded. "You think Weasley actually managed to get into Lav's pants?"

"Nah," Seamus answered. "Not a bloody chance."

"Either way, doesn't look like he'll be anywhere close to her after this."

"Nope."

"I hope Ginny tears him a new one. Just not right to treat a girl like that."

"Oh, like you're _such_ a gentleman, Thomas."

"Shut it, Finnigan."

Dean went back to his essay and left Seamus to his thoughts. He smiled.

 _Looks like Lav's gonna be looking for a rebound…_

OoOoO

OoOoO

Later that night, Harry found that sleep was eluding him.

Ron had been surly when he finally came up to the dorm, mumbling about problems with Lavender. Harry hoped that they'd finally broken things off. He had no idea why they'd stayed together as long as they had after the Yule Ball – they had absolutely nothing in common.

Not that he had any experience in dating himself, what with his one date, and that had been with Hermione. He supposed that he just didn't understand why other people did the things they did.

He tossed and turned for another moment, but eventually gave up on getting any rest. The Force was agitated, and he wouldn't find any relief until he spent some time in meditation. He couldn't do it in the dorm, though, his roommates were all snoring away and he didn't want to wake them with the inevitable whirlwind.

So he trudged down to the common room and was relieved to find it empty. He sat down on the floor and closed his eyes, reaching out into the Force with his senses.

He felt the agitation right away. It was like a new, boiling layer on top of the familiar, old disturbance that had been present in the Force for years now.

 _Voldemort_ , he thought to himself. _It has to be. The disturbance had to've started with his preparations to return, and now that he's freed more of his Death Eaters, it's only getting worse._

Harry deepened his foray into the Force, searching for meaning or understanding or whatever the Energy that bound all things together desired to show him. He let himself drift in the steady current until all other sensation left him.

Everything went dark.

All went quiet.

There was only the Force.

And then there was a sharp _snap-hiss_!

A glowing, red blade flashed before his mind's eye for an instant and the Force _screamed_ in agony.

The electric _hum_ cut through the air and filled his mind with pain and death.

And then there was another _snap-hiss_ and a second _thrum_ was added to the darkness.

They clashed together in fury.

There were bursts of static and flashes of light.

Palpable hatred went to war, hell-bent on destroying everything before it.

Bright sparks exploded from the angry clashes of sizzling blades.

Harry opened his eyes and saw the familiar common room.

Another vision.

Voldemort. It had to be Voldemort.

Harry needed to prepare more. If Voldemort made himself capable of something like that…

He needed to talk to Ron and Hermione. And probably Dumbledore. They had a lot of work to do.

* * *

 **AN: Thoughts?**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	15. XV

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

XV

 _Saturday, May 4, 1996_

"Thanks for the Chocolate Frogs," Ginny said right before she snatched the sweet out of the air as it tried to leap away. She took a bite and turned to her boyfriend and smiled. "They're my favorite."

"Anything for you, Ginny," Michael Corner smiled back at her.

Together they strolled down the High Street of Hogsmeade, hand in hand. Ginny was busy munching on her chocolate while Michael just seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Ready for your O.W.L.s?" she asked once she'd finished off the treat.

"Ugh… Don't remind me," Michael answered. "I've still got more revising to do."

"I'm sure you'll do fine."

They passed two of the red-robed Aurors that were patrolling the streets. The Ministry was really pouring resources into the Auror Corps since You-Know-Who's return, or so her father kept saying. It was a good thing too, as the Death Eaters had been stepping up their activity. Ginny normally didn't pay too much attention to things like that, but it was hard to miss all the red robes that were now present for the Hogsmeade weekends.

"Where would you like to go next?" Michael asked.

"How about the Three Broomsticks?" she replied. "I could do with a butterbeer."

"Ehhh…" Michael seemed to hesitate.

"What's wrong?"

"Didn't you say your brother was going there?"

"Oh, come on, Michael. He's not going to hurt you!"

"Still…"

"We're going," Ginny stated as she marched off for the inn, dragging Michael by the hand behind her.

They were just about to walk up to the door when it opened and out walked her brother along with Harry and Hermione. Ginny flashed her best smile as the dark-haired boy with the dashing green eyes looked at her.

"Hey, Ginny, Michael," Hermione happily greeted them.

"What are you three up to?" Ginny asked in return. She was quick to note the death glare that Ron was sending her boyfriend. Maybe Michael was right to worry about him. She made a mental note to have a word or two with her brother later on.

"Just had a bit of lunch," Hermione replied. "Now we're off to Scrivenshaft's. Harry needs a new quill."

"Is that right, Harry?" she asked while giving him her best doe-eyed look. She knew she should behave herself – she was standing right next to her boyfriend for Merlin's sake, but she just couldn't help herself whenever she was around Harry.

"Err… yeah," he replied.

"Maybe we should stay and have another butterbeer," Ron said. "Keep an eye on things in there."

Now it was Ginny's turn to practice her death glare. But her stupid brother was too dense to know when to turn his tail and run.

And then the three fifth-year Gryffindors suddenly all went tense, like they were getting ready for a fight. Their heads turned this way and that as their eyes searched the street around them. Hermione and Ron both drew their wands, while Harry pulled out a short, metal tube.

Ginny was rather confused.

"Is that one of those Muggle eckel-torches?" she asked while pointing at the thing Harry was holding, "dad's got one of those in his shed. Doesn't work though."

"You two, get inside." Ron practically ordered.

"Don't boss me around, Ron," Ginny shot back.

"Ginny—"

But the rest of her retort was cut off by a thunderous blast that seemed to shake the very air around her.

Ginny turned to see that the facade of Dervish & Banges had been blown off the building. Splinters and wreckage were flying all over the place and soon the sound of anguished cries started to fill the air.

"What the…" Michael started to say.

And then a host of black-robed Death Eaters poured out of the ruined building.

Bright flashes of spellfire streaked through the air as the handful of Aurors that were nearby engaged the threat. But there simply weren't enough of them to stand much of a chance against the host of Death Eaters. They'd be crushed.

Fear took hold in the pit of Ginny's stomach.

She turned to ask Harry what they should do, if anyone knew it would be the Boy-Who-Lived…

But Harry wasn't there.

He, Ron, and Hermione were sprinting down the street, running _toward_ the fighting.

"What the hell are they doing?!" Ginny shouted.

She watched, her feet riveted to the ground, as Hermione gestured with her hand and one of the Death Eaters went tumbling through the air. Ron made a similar motion, and another Death Eater slammed face-first into a brick wall.

"When did they learn silent casting?" Michael asked.

"Dunno…"

Their presence made known, hexes and curses began to zero in on the three charging Gryffindors.

But Harry leapt forward and suddenly there was a brilliant, blue sword in his hands. He twirled the glowing blade so fast that it blurred through the air with a buzzing _thrum_. Spells raced at him, but they were each met by the flashing blade and sent rebounding either safely off into the sky or right back at their casters.

The main group of Death Eaters shouted in confusion as their own curses fell upon them and started to wreak havoc. Hermione and Ron sent their own hexes and jinxes into the confused mass of black robes, but they mostly used… whatever silent spell they knew to throw their opponents around.

Ron would definitely need to teach her how to do that.

Harry was still sprinting forward, running faster than Ginny had ever seen, his blue sword a blur of motion around him, intercepting any hex or curse that came within three feet of him.

And then he was among them.

He tumbled and leapt. His blue blade twirled and slashed, carving through anything that it touched, cutting a wide swath of death and destruction wherever it spun. The Death Eaters screamed and fell and died.

Within seconds their formation broke and they ran in all directions, seemingly desperate to get away from the young wizard and his terrible, glowing sword.

"Ginny, look out!" Michael's voice cried out from beside her.

She pulled her eyes away from Harry and turned to see the Death Eater, how had he gotten so close?

She saw the dark purple curse that was headed straight for her.

But she was too surprised to react.

There was nothing she could do.

She just stood there.

Frozen.

And then something latched onto her arm and roughly pulled her to the ground. The wall behind where she had been standing just a moment before exploded in a shower of dust and debris. She looked up only to stare down the wand of the masked Death Eater.

Ginny felt the bottom of her stomach drop off as she simply _knew_ with undeniable certainty that she was about to die.

But before the Death Eater could do anything else, he simply dropped his wand and both of his hands flew to his throat. Ginny watched both in horror and confusion as he gasped, coughing and sputtering while he frantically pulled at the robes around his neck. He slowly fell to the ground, and then there was a sickening _crunch_. Ginny looked away in revulsion as the man went still, but for one twitching leg.

A series of staccato _cracks_ resounded through the air as the remaining Death Eaters fled the scene of their ill-fated attack.

Ginny glanced down at the hand that was still latched around her arm. Her eyes followed it up to her boyfriend's worried face.

"Michael?"

He just nodded at her in answer.

"You saved me?"

"I guess so," he replied.

Ginny threw her arms around his neck and quickly sealed her lips against his.

But then he was violently ripped out of her arms and flung against the wall by some invisible force.

"Michael!" Ginny screamed as she drew he wand and frantically searched for whatever Death Eater was targeting them. But she couldn't see a single masked figure anywhere near that was still on their feet.

"Corner!"

Ginny turned to see her brother storming toward them, one hand extended toward her boyfriend.

"Corner, you bloody _bastard_!" he started screaming, "stay the _hell_ away from my sister!"

Ginny threw herself at her brother, trying to bodily push him away from the boy that had just saved her life and was now struggling to stand up. But it was useless, Ron just pushed right by her as if she wasn't even there. When had her brother gotten so _strong_?

"Ron! Stop it!" she cried.

His head snapped over to her, and she could see the fury burning in his eyes. He snarled at her.

"Stop it, Ron! Michael just saved my life! What's wrong with you?!"

"What's wrong with me?! What's wrong with _you_ , Ginny?!" Ron shot right back at her. "You're acting like some scarlet woman right out in the middle of the street!"

"You want to fight about this now?! People are hurt or dead all around us! And you're mad that I kissed my boyfriend?!"

"Ron!" Harry's voice broke into the argument and both Weasleys turned toward the newcomer. He strode toward them, his face an expression of deadly calm. Ginny briefly wondered where is glowing, blue sword had gone. "Let it go, Ron."

Her brother snarled again, this time at his best friend. But then he turned and stalked away, probably to try and rein in his temper.

"Ginny? Michael? Are you two okay?" Hermione asked as she walked up to the little group. Ginny saw that the older girl's robes were red with blood near her shoulder. But she seemed to be walking alright so Ginny guessed she was fine, even if she did look a little shaky.

"I think so," Michael replied as he stood up.

Ginny walked over to him and slipped both of her arms around his waist.

"Don't worry about my brother," she said as she looked up at him. "I'll take care of him."

She missed the worried glance that Harry and Hermione shared.

OoOoO

OoOoO

Later that evening, Hermione was rather nervous as she sat in the Headmaster's office along with Harry and Ron. They'd been summoned as soon as they'd returned to Hogwarts, and Dumbledore had thoroughly questioned them about the attack and their actions in response. Hermione had been entirely truthful, not leaving out even the smallest detail. The Headmaster hadn't commented upon what they did, merely asking them to wait where they were as he flooed to the Ministry, promising that he would be back soon.

She knew that she had no real reason to be nervous, she hadn't done anything _wrong_ , per se, and as a Jedi, she knew that she probably should have tried harder to release her anxiousness into the Force, but she couldn't help it. In her five years at Hogwarts, she'd never been called to the Headmaster's office. She'd never been in any sort of trouble before, at least not since the troll incident.

So she fidgeted and bounced her knee as she waited for Dumbledore to return.

"Think he's gonna expel us?" Ron asked.

"Don't say that!" Hermione shouted as her heart started to palpitate even faster. "He simply can't expel us! I mean, we were only protecting ourselves, and the other students, it was the Death Eaters that attacked, not us! It wouldn't be fair to expel us for standing up to them! I mean, the Ministry is basically at war with them, we didn't do anything that they wouldn't have done, I mean we probably saved countless lives, well, not countless, and we didn't save everyone, but it would have been much worse if it wasn't for us, and—"

"Breathe, Hermione," Harry interrupted her.

She snapped her mouth shut and turned to look at her friends. Harry was regarding her with concern, but Ron was grinning at her.

He'd been joking.

"Ronald Weasley!" she nearly screamed, "this is certainly no time for jokes!"

His smile only got wider.

"Just having you on a bit."

"People are _dead_ , Ron! And we're responsible! How can you possibly make light of this?!"

"I was just trying to get you to relax a little," Ron defended himself.

"You're unbelievable! It's a wonder you can feel the Force at all as you clearly have the sensitivity of a teaspoon!"

"Hey!"

"Okay, guys," Harry interrupted their budding argument, "this isn't the time or the place for this. We're all a bit riled up after the attack, but we need to deal with it the right way – as Jedi."

Hermione blushed and looked down at her shoes. Harry was right as always.

"I think we could all use a bit of meditation," he continued. "Let's do that together while we wait for Dumbledore to get back."

Hermione sighed, letting out a long breath. She should have thought of that. She should have known better than to lose her temper like that. She was letting her emotions control her – and that was dangerous.

So she closed her eyes and stretched out her senses, just as Harry advised. She was immediately assaulted by the presences of her two friends, especially since they were so close to her. Ron felt like a burning flame, bright and hot like his Weasley temperament, always full of energy and ready for action - a coiled spring just waiting to be released.

Harry, on the other hand, was like a beacon in the Force, bright and shining like Ron, only more so. But at the same time his presence felt like calm, patient strength, a mountain of determination and sheer will that could withstand any opposition. She felt herself drawn to him as always; she wanted to let her own presence drift to him so that she could be swallowed up into him, like they had done during their intimate Force-embrace when he had first taught her to reach out to the Energy all around them. Had that really been all the way back in first year? Had it truly been so long ago? The feeling was still with her, it never really left…

But Hermione marshaled her willpower and resisted the temptation – it wouldn't be very proper after all. Instead, she focused on her own feelings, on the anxiousness and frazzled nerves that were driving her spare at the moment. She gathered them up and invited the Force to simply carry them away.

She sighed again and smiled as the burden was lifted from her. She then simply let herself sink into the Force, delving ever deeper into its strong current. From it she gained new perspective and the assurance that they had been right, that _she_ had been right in her actions earlier that day. She had fought in defense of life, to protect those that could not protect themselves, and even though she had taken a life herself that day, the Force did not condemn her.

With the aid of the Force, her memory of that terrible moment came back to her in vivid detail. It had seemed like time had slowed to a crawl, everything moving in slow motion except for herself, Harry, and Ron as they used the Force to defend themselves and their friends. Despite her best efforts, she had just been hit by a Cutting Curse in her left shoulder. She had asked the Force to dull the pain so that she could keep on moving as her attacker readied another spell. But then her senses had shouted to her of the danger that was building nearby and she turned to see a mote of bright green gathering at the tip of another Death Eater's wand. She had never actually seen it before, but her mind instantly recognized what could only be the beginnings of the Killing Curse. She _pushed_ with the Force, and the first Death Eater was flung away from her and into the path of the curse, preventing it from meeting its intended target. Most likely saving someone's life.

At the expense of another.

She'd killed a human being.

She knew that he'd been a dark wizard who probably took delight in all sorts of terrible things. Killing him had probably saved not only one life, but likely many more lives that would've been lost in the future.

But those justifications didn't really help. She'd still taken a life. She still felt like a killer.

But the Force didn't condemn her. It didn't pass judgment or blame her. Instead, it brought consolation and eased her guilt. Fighting in defense of life made a difference somehow and the Force helped her process and accept what she had done, to acknowledge that while it was regrettable, it had still been the right thing to do.

Part of her wondered how Harry was feeling. As far as she knew, Hermione had only been directly responsible for one death. Harry had sprinted into the middle of the Death Eaters with his lightsaber flashing all around him. She couldn't even guess how many people he'd maimed and killed, or how he was dealing with it after the fact.

But she could feel that the Force didn't condemn him either, and neither would she. As long as they held themselves to using the Force for knowledge and defense, and not to attack, they would be fine.

Hermione heard a roar from the fireplace followed by the voice of the Headmaster.

"Well isn't this a sight to see."

She opened her eyes and saw that the office was in complete disarray. A selection of Dumbledore's belongings were slowly floating around the room - the Sorting Hat, a collection of fiddly, silver instruments, the gilded stand that his phoenix was _still_ using as a perch, a few portraits of former Headmasters, as well as several other odds and ends.

"Sorry about that," Harry said as he gestured and everything gently floated back to its rightful place. "It's my fault. I never really learned to control what I unconsciously do with the Force around me as I meditate. It can cause a bit of a mess sometimes…"

"Not to worry, Harry," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes, "no harm has been done after all."

The ancient wizard then took his seat behind his expansive desk before continuing.

"I have spoken to Madam Bones at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and I have explained your actions in defense of your fellow students, leaving out certain details, of course."

"Is she going to press charges against us?" Hermione found herself asking.

"I wouldn't worry about that, Miss Granger," Dumbledore smiled. "Madam Bones agrees with me that this was a clear case of self-defense. If anything, you are to be commended."

"Told you we wouldn't be expelled," Ron said.

"Heavens no!" Dumbledore added. "Quite the contrary, in fact. I believe that you three are deserving of a reward, not condemnation. I hereby award one hundred points to Gryffindor, each, for your bravery in the face of such danger. And I think that awards for special service to the school would be appropriate as well…"

Hermione felt her face split into a very wide grin as the old wizard went on speaking.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Sunday May 5, 1996_

Ron slammed down his goblet of pumpkin juice as he stared at the front page of the _Daily Prophet_.

 _DEATH EATERS ATTACK HOGSMEADE!_

 _DOZENS DEAD OR WOUNDED!_

 _BOY-WHO-LIVED BECOMES BOY-WHO-FOUGHT-BACK!_

 _By Rita Skeeter_

 _Sources report that a large force of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's Death Eaters attacked the wizarding village of Hogsmeade yesterday afternoon leaving dozens wounded or dead. Scores of innocent students from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were enjoying a quiet day of shopping and fun, when the extremists executed their most recent attack, quickly overwhelming the Aurors stationed nearby. They were poised to begin their merciless slaughter when the tide suddenly turned against them._

 _Multiple witness say that Harry Potter, currently a fifth-year Gryffindor, was seen running toward the Death Eaters with a glowing, blue sword in his hands. The Boy-Who-Lived singlehandedly took on a force of over twenty dark witches and wizards and sent them reeling._

" _It was unbelievable," said witness Cho Chang, a lovely and vivacious sixth-year Ravenclaw, "Everyone was screaming, and then Harry was there with that blazing sword, cutting through the Death Eaters. They couldn't come anywhere near him with even a single curse. It was just like something out of one of those Boy Who Lived adventure books from when I was little."_

 _Potter is said to be responsible for killing eleven of You-Know-Who's most vicious followers and likely wounding several more. The rest quickly fled the scene in fear._

 _Yet many questions remain. Where did our hero learn such skills? And where did he get that glowing sword? Is it perhaps the Sword of Gryffindor found anew after being lost for centuries? And what happened to the Aurors? How were they so quickly overrun? Why hasn't the Ministry provided better protection for our precious children?_

 _In any event, this reporter says 'well done' to our Boy-Who-Lived! So far the Ministry of Magic has been entirely ineffective at taking the fight to You-Know-Who. It's about time that someone had the courage to stand up and fight back. Harry Potter is the hero our country needs in these dark times! Hopefully the Ministry takes notice and starts following his example._

 _For more on the attack on Hogsmeade, see page 3._

 _For more eye-witness accounts of Potter's fighting, see pages 7-9._

 _For a reprinting of articles detailing You-Know-Who's most recent attacks, see pages 12-15._

 _For speculation on Potter's love life, see pages 18-25._

"This is ridiculous," Ron grumbled to the Gryffindor table.

"What is?" Harry asked as he finished his eggs.

"That's not how it happened!"

"So?"

"Skeeter gets it all wrong!" Ron complained. "And she paints you out to be the lone bloody hero! Basically calls for you to be appointed Minister right away. And the hag doesn't even mention us! She says that you took them on all by yourself! Doesn't say a word about me! Or Hermione!"

"Honestly!" Hermione exclaimed. "Who cares, Ron? People _died_ yesterday, and you're worried about your name in the papers?! Kevin Entwhistle and Megan Jones are still in the Infirmary!"

"What?! It's the truth!"

"Since when has the _Prophet_ ever worried about printing the truth?"

"Why are you upset about what's in the paper?" Harry calmly asked.

"It'd be nice to get some recognition is all," Ron replied. "We put our lives on the line, you know? I almost took a Blasting Hex! Hermione _did_ get hit with a Cutting Curse! People should know about what we did!"

"That might be true," Harry said, "but a Jedi shouldn't worry about those things. We're not in this to see our names in the paper or to get recognition, Ron. A Jedi fights to defend life. Plain and simple."

"Still."

"Let it go, Ron," Hermione admonished him. "Rita Skeeter is a two-bit hack that wouldn't know real journalism it if slapped her in the face. Don't worry about what she says."

"Anyways," Harry said, "I've got a feeling that yesterday was just the beginning. Things are only going to get worse. We obviously can't fight the war for the Ministry, we're just students after all, but we should be more prepared in case something like this happens again."

Ron and Hermione both nodded in agreement.

"But there's a problem," Harry continued, "you two would have been in a lot of trouble if I hadn't been there to deflect those curses."

"So what?" Ron said. "We'll fight as a team. Tossers'll never be able to touch us! Ron Weasley and the Fighting Threesome!"

"Do you even listen to yourself?" Hermione asked while she shook her head. "Fighting Threesome? Go ahead and call the tabloids right now."

"What's wrong with a threesome?" Ron asked aloud.

"Ow ow!" Dean catcalled from his place down the table. "Getting a bit ambitious there, aren't you Weasley?"

"Weasley can't even keep one girl happy, never mind two at the same time!" Parvati added.

Ron blushed bright red when he finally realized what he'd actually said.

"Bugger off, you two!" he shouted.

"Not with you!" Dean shot back.

With a flick of his wand Harry cast a privacy spell around him and his two friends. The voices around them faded to a dull buzz.

"If we could get back to the point?" he asked. "Right then. We did alright together yesterday, but—"

"But we might not always be together when trouble crops up," Hermione finished for him.

"Exactly," Harry said.

"So what do we do, then?" Ron asked.

"Term's almost up," Harry replied. "Once it is, I think we better see about you two building your own lightsabers."

"You're daft," Ron said. "Mum's not gonna let me run off for a month on a Force-quest. Especially now with the attacks."

"He's right, Harry—"

"Hear that, Harry?" Ron cut Hermione off, "Hermione says I'm right!"

The witch rolled her eyes but continued her statement.

"Ron's right, _for once_. My parents don't know about the Death Eaters, but they're not about to let their teenaged daughter roam about the countryside for a month. Especially not if they know there's two boys involved."

"Who says it has to take a month?" Harry asked.

"You did," Hermione answered. "What, you think I'd forgotten about your disappearing act last summer?"

"It took _me_ a month, you're right. But I don't see why it should take so long for _you_ …"

Ron leaned forward in interest and listened to the beginnings of Harry's plan.

This was going to be great! Soon, he'd have his very own lightsaber!

* * *

 **AN: Thoughts?**

 **Thanks for your reviews and thanks for reading!**


	16. XVI

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

XVI

 _Saturday, July 6, 1996_

Ron followed his two friends through the twisting, underground tunnels. He'd never been in a cave system before and part of him couldn't help but wonder if there were parts of Gringotts that looked just like this. The goblins had to have started with something, after all.

He had no idea where Harry was leading them as he kept on striding away into the darkness, turning this way and that like he was following an invisible map. His friend assured him that he knew where he was going, that he could feel the kyber crystals in the Force, beckoning to him, guiding him through the Labrynith.

Hermione mentioned feeling something too, but she said it was too light, too faint for her to grasp on to it.

Ron didn't feel a thing. And if Harry didn't have his lightsaber as proof, he would have thought his best mate had finally gone 'round the bend.

But he _did_ have a lightsaber, and he had to have gotten the crystal from somewhere, so Ron kept following him through the caverns. Even if it had been several hours since they'd arrived and they still had yet to stop for something to eat.

Some people just had no sense of priorities.

"We're here," Harry finally said as he came to a stop in a tiny, little chamber that looked just like all the others they'd passed by.

"Great," Ron cheered. "Now, where's these crystals? Or should we maybe stop for a bite to eat first?"

"Do you always have to think with your stomach?" Hermione asked.

"Oi! It's not right to do hard work on an empty stomach! I'm looking out for all of us!"

"We'll eat _after_ you two have your crystals," Harry decided. The young wizard then reached into his backpack and pulled out two lanterns. He flicked some sort of switch on them and they lit up brighter than any lantern Ron had seen before. It was like they had a _Lumos_ charm inside them.

"Those things run off eckeltrickity?" he asked. "My dad would get a kick out of seeing them."

"Yes, Ron," Hermione answered his question, "they're _electric_ lanterns. I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind showing them to your father."

"You can borrow them once we're done. Just don't let him take them apart."

Only then did Ron actually look around the now well-lit chamber. It was rather small, there was barely enough room within it for all three of them. The rocky walls glittered with little mineral deposits, and he had to stoop just a bit so that his head wouldn't bang against the ceiling.

"The kyber crystals are over here," Harry said, pointing to a small patch of tiny white crystals in the corner.

Ron and Hermione both moved over and crouched down to have a better look. They were really small, and Ron could barely make out intricate, swirling patterns that looked like they were carved just under the surface of each gem. He could also feel them now, a slight but steady presence that seemed to hum in the Force.

"How do we choose one?" Hermione asked.

"You don't," Harry answered. "The crystal chooses you."

"Okay, Mr. Ollivander," Ron laughed.

"Don't look at me," Harry replied. "I don't make the rules."

"Yeah, yeah…"

"So what do we _do_ , then?" Hermione impatiently asked.

"Reach out to them in the Force," Harry instructed. "Tell the crystals why you need one. Ask for help. Allow yourself to be chosen by one. Look for one that feels different from the others, one that, well, _sings_ to you in a way that you kind of… harmonize with."

Ron sighed. He'd never been as good as Harry or Hermione at this type of stuff with the Force. Letting go and calmly allowing the Force to invite him and guide him and all that had never come easy to him. He always felt most connected to it when he was _doing_ something. Like when he called on the Force for speed and agility during Quidditch, or when he'd needed extra power during the fight in Hogsmeade. He felt the Life of the Force most clearly when _he_ was feeling most alive, when excitement was pumping through his veins.

Oh well.

He'd make due.

He stretched out his senses into the Force, and he felt Harry and Hermione do the same next to him. He reached out toward the little crystals - he could sense them more clearly now, but they were really faint…

"I can barely feel them," Hermione voiced his exact thought.

"Don't worry," Harry answered, "we'll take as long as needs be."

 _Right then_ , Ron thought, _let's do this._

OoOoO

OoOoO

Ron sighed in frustration and mentally cursed his present situation. He was tired, cold, and hungry, and he still didn't have a bloody kyber crystal!

They must've been standing in that cramped little cavern for hours. How long did Harry really expect them to keep this up? His legs were sore from standing for so long and he had a cramp in his neck from being hunched over because of the low ceiling.

At least Hermione didn't have a crystal either, so he wasn't the only one not getting this… whatever it was that was supposed to happen.

He turned to glance at the witch beside him. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as she held her right hand out toward the little gems. Her Force-presence felt focused, completely intent on her given task.

He spared one quick glance at Harry behind him. He was leaning against the wall, silently watching them, his face a mask of perfect calm. But Ron could feel the tiny seed of doubt in his best mate, the worry that something wasn't going as it should be.

Ron turned back to the crystals and tried to reach out to them yet again, but they still felt the same. None of them felt any different from the others. They were all the same.

Did it really matter if he was _chosen_ by one particular crystal? He'd always thought that old Ollivander did his thing more to just entertain himself than anything else. Ron had used other wands before, and he'd always managed to get them to work. Sure, the one he'd matched with was always a bit easier to use and gave him the best results, but he'd managed just fine using his older brother's wand for years until he'd finally saved up enough money for his own.

The crystals were probably the same way. Sure, a lightsaber might work a little better for you if you had a crystal that 'chose you,' but it'd probably still work just fine even if it wasn't properly matched. Ron and Hermione had both used Harry's lightsaber after all, and they'd never had any trouble with it.

Hermione suddenly let out a little gasp beside him. He watched as she reached down and plucked a tiny sliver of a crystal off the floor. She cradled it in her hands as if it was the most precious thing in the entire world as she stared at it, completely mesmerized by the thing.

"Well done, Hermione!" Harry cheered.

"It's _amazing_ …" she whispered. "It's like a little piece of me that I'd never realized was missing before…"

Ron turned back to the patch of crystals and reached out again.

A few minutes later, Hermione was still crooning over her crystal and Ron still didn't feel anything different.

 _Right_ , he thought. _That's enough of this. Let's just pick one and make do_.

He reached down and snatched up a little shard. He could feel the Force alive within it, but it still just felt like all the others.

"Good work, Ron!" Harry said.

He smiled back at his friend.

"Pretty cool, ain't it?"

Harry slowly shook his head in amusement.

"Only you could describe _this_ as _cool_ …"

"Yeah, yeah. Now then, let's get something to eat! I'm bloody starving here!"

"Language…" Hermione mumbled in admonishment.

OoOoO

OoOoO

After sneaking past a few tour groups and park rangers, the three Jedi in training emerged back into the light of day. Hermione glanced down at her watch.

"Five-thirty," she said. "We were down there for a little more than eight hours."

"Felt like forever to me," Ron said.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"But it was definitely worth it," she added.

"And _much_ quicker than running all over England," Harry said.

"True."

They walked down the path leading away from the visitor's center and toward the main road.

"So what's the next step, then?" she eventually asked.

"Now you've got to build the rest of the components you need," Harry instructed. "Each lightsaber is completely unique, just like the crystal at its heart. Everything needs to be personally made by the Jedi that is going to use it. I know you've both used mine before, but I can't really explain to you how it feels to hold and wield your own lightsaber. It's like a part of me that I'd never known before, but had always been there…"

Hermione smiled and patted the little case in her pocket that held _her_ kyber crystal.

"I think I know what you mean," she said.

Harry smiled at her.

"Anyways, I'll need to help you build the components. The technology is way beyond the most advanced stuff I've ever seen."

 _Advanced_ alien _technology…_ Hermione thought to herself and felt a little thrill of excitement run down her spine. _This is going to be so much fun!_

"So what's the plan then?"

"I figure the best thing to do is for you two to come over to my house every day so I can help you work. It should only take a couple of weeks."

Hermione grimaced.

"I don't think my parents are going to be happy with that," she said. "I mean, they bought my excuse about spending the day with you to work on a school project, but I don't think they're going to let me spend every day over at a boy's house."

"What if we sneak over at night?" Ron asked. "You should be able to move quietly enough to get out of the house without waking your parents. And if you do, just use a little Force-distraction on them. No harm done and you're in the clear!"

"I don't know…"

"Come on, Hermione. This is important."

Ron was right. It was important. The wizarding world was at war and here she was worried about upsetting her parents.

"Alright fine."

"Works for me," Harry said.

"So how do we get to your place each night?" Ron asked.

"I am _not_ taking the Floo again!" Hermione quickly said. "I felt so sick the last time I used that terrible thing that I swore I'd never do it again!"

"No argument from me, there," Ron added. "Never gave me any trouble before I learned about the Force, but I'm right with you now."

"Knight Bus?" Harry offered. "It got us all here today without a fuss."

"Ehh…" Ron said "Once in a while is fine, but I don't think I can afford it every day…"

"We should just fly," Hermione finally said. "We've each got a perfectly good Nimbus, and the Trace can't detect magic that doesn't use a wand, and it'll be night so it's a lot less likely that we'll be noticed, and it shouldn't take much more than an hour for either of us to get there, less really if we push ourselves…"

"Sounds like a plan, then," Harry said. "You'll have to fly to the park on Magnolia Road, I'll meet you there each night, say around ten, and we'll sneak into the house."

"Better make it eleven," Hermione said. "I'll need to be sure my parents are asleep."

Harry nodded at her.

"Sound good to you, Ron?"

"Yeah. I doubt mum'll notice I'm gone. As long as I'm back before dawn, that is."

"Great! We'll start tomorrow night, then."

Hermione smiled as Harry stuck out his wand and summoned the Knight Bus. She'd never been to Harry's house before, and she found that she was rather looking forward to it.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Tuesday, August 13, 1996_

"Okay," Harry said, "now use the Force to seal the casing around the energy channel - just heat the seam a little bit and it should fuse right together…"

He was seated on the edge of his bed while he watched his two friends work at opposite sides of his desk. Hermione was perched on his chair, while Ron was sitting on an old stool that they'd liberated from the shed in the back garden. Both were intently focused on the task before them.

Making the components for the two new lightsabers was taking a lot longer than Harry had thought it would. It had only taken him a little more than two weeks to build everything he needed for his own saber, but then again, he'd had the ready use of the Holocron for technical assistance. Hermione and Ron were relying on Harry's guidance, and he was apparently a rather poor substitute for the ancient Jedi artifact.

He'd thought long and hard about finally introducing his friends to his mysterious 'teacher,' but he'd ultimately decided against it. A large part of him was still worried that if the Holocron found out he was teaching others how to use the Force before he was a Jedi Master, it would refuse the show him anything else. And with Voldemort on the loose, he really couldn't afford that.

"Good," he said once they'd both finished sealing their blade energy channels.

"What next?" Hermione asked.

"Now you just need to shape the lenses. Take the disc and focus the Force on it in a… I guess I'd call it a circular pressure until it curves and feels right."

Their plan for sneaking out each night and coming to Privet Drive had worked almost perfectly. The only problem that they'd run into came on the very first night. It had started in the park.

 _Harry had been monitoring the presences of Hermione and Ron as they'd been coming toward Little Whinging for the past hour. Now he watched as their brooms slipped over the trees and they gracefully landed in the park._

" _About time you made it!" He called out to them._

" _Shut it, you," Ron said with a smile._

" _Right then, let's go."_

 _But they ran into trouble as they reached the park's gate, trouble in the form of Dudley Dursley and his gang._

" _Well, if it isn't the_ freak _," Harry's cousin sneered at him._

 _Harry rolled his eyes, but he also noticed Dudley's friends swallow nervously and take a few hesitant steps backwards. Piers, Malcom, and Gordon had learned their lessons about messing with Harry years ago. The only one that couldn't seem to figure out that trying to torment the young Jedi never turned out well was Dudley._

 _The large boy never had been very bright._

" _And it looks like he's got some_ freaky _friends with him too!"_

" _Get out of the way, Dudley," Harry ordered._

" _Let's go, Big D," Piers squeaked. "They ain't worth it…"_

" _Nah, I wanna know who these two are and why they're hanging out with my loser of a cousin."_

" _Harry is_ not _a loser!" Hermione stated._

" _Some spirit in this one, eh,_ freak _?" Dudley asked. "She your girlfriend? Not bad lookin'. Hey, honey, wanna give a real man a try?"_

" _You're a pig," Hermione responded._

 _Dudley didn't seem to like that as his face started to turn bright red. But Harry didn't give him a chance to respond and simply used the Force to push him out of the way so they could pass through the gate._

" _Holy shit!" Piers cried._

" _Did you see that?!" Malcom added._

" _Let's get out of here!" Gordon screamed._

 _The three boys turned and ran._

" _Quite a gang you got there, Dud," Harry smirked. "Real bunch of cowards."_

" _Fuck off,_ freak _!"_

" _Come on," Harry said to his two friends._

 _They made for Number Four quickly and quietly, and a little distraction courtesy of the Force had them past Dumbledore's guards and in through the kitchen door. It looked like they would get in scot free until the front door slammed open._

" _Dad!" Dudley hollered into the living room. "The_ freak's _sneaking a girl into the house!"_

 _Harry could've sworn he felt the ground shake as his uncle heaved himself out of his chair in front of the television and stomped into the kitchen. His face quickly took on a bright shade of purple when he saw the three teenagers._

" _Now see here!" he bellowed. "Boy! We've given you all sorts of leeway in the past, turning a blind eye to you and all your unnaturalness, but this is going too far!"_

" _What's going on, Vernon?" Aunt Petunia called as she shuffled down the stairs, wrapped in her pink robe. Her face drained of color as she took in the building confrontation._

" _This lousy_ freak _of a nephew of yours is sneaking other_ freaks _into the house! No doubt to go about some sort of perversion!"_

" _Ha!" Dudley laughed._

 _Harry tried to explain himself._

" _Uncle Vernon—"_

" _No!" he yelled, "I'll not listen to your excuses! I've had enough, I say! This is going too far and I'll not have it in my house! Tell your_ slut _and that red haired_ freak _to get off my property this instant!"_

 _Hermione seemed completely shocked at the words coming out of the fat man's mouth. Petunia appeared frightened and nervous. Dudley smiled gleefully._

 _Ron looked rather angry._

 _The red-haired wizard threw his hand forward and Vernon was flung back and slammed against the kitchen wall. His hands flew to his throat as his body started to rise until his feet were hanging just off the ground. He coughed and wriggled and sputtered as he fought to breathe._

" _Listen here,_ Muggle _," Ron sneered at him, "We're Harry's_ friends _. We're_ not _freaks. And we're gonna be working on something here for the next few nights whether you like it or not."_

" _Ron!" Hermione urgently whispered. "Stop it! Let him down!"_

 _But Ron just stood there and watched for another moment as Harry's uncle gasped for breath before finally releasing his hold and Vernon collapsed to the ground._

" _That's not gonna be a problem, is it?" he asked._

 _Vernon quickly shook his head as he drew in great gulps of air between his sputters and coughs._

" _Not at all!" Petunia squeaked._

 _Dudley turned and ran straight out the front door, seeming to have finally learned his lesson._

 _Once they were all upstairs in the bedroom, Harry turned to face his friend._

" _You shouldn't have done that, Ron!" he admonished. "I could've easily taken care of him. A little suggestion would have shut him right up!"_

" _Yeah, and then we'd likely have to do it over again tomorrow night, right?"_

" _So what?"_

" _So what?! Now they'll leave us alone for good! Berks like him only understand one thing – strength. Show him you're strong and he's not. Only way to deal with them. Learned that from Malfoy…"_

" _But you can't use the Force like that, Ron!" Hermione said._

" _Oh come off it, Hermione. He's not hurt. And it was the easiest way to do it. Stop your worrying."_

 _The rest of that first evening was rather tense as they started their work._

 _But Ron had been right, they hadn't been bothered by the Dursleys since._

Harry shook himself out of his memories as he noticed that Hermione and Ron were both finished with their lenses.

"Now what?" Ron asked.

"That should be it," Harry said. "Let me look it over."

He stood up and stepped over to the desk to peer down at their work. Hermione's components were laid out in neat rows along with her tools and spare parts. Ron's work area was a jumbled mess, but he could see that everything was there.

It was all the same as what Harry had built the year before, but at the same time everything was different too. The parts and pieces were all there, and they would perform the same functions, but what Hermione and Ron had made was unique, each piece as much a product of the one that made it as the technical directions that guided the process.

Harry could tell just by looking at the components that Hermione's lightsaber hilt would be a lot smaller than his own. The casing was slender and it tapered off near the pommel to a rounded point. Part of the casing had a bronze tint to it, and there were a few raised ridges on the side that would serve to help with the grip.

Ron's lightsaber, on the other hand, was a large affair. The tubing had darkened during the fashioning until it was almost black. The hilt would be thick and long, and there was a prominent shroud that jutted out past the emitter on one side.

Harry reached out with the Force and inspected the components that were laid out before him. He could feel his friends' presences in the parts and pieces that they'd built, and he knew with Force-confirmed certainty that they'd done their work well.

They were ready for the final step.

"Now," he said, "take out your kyber crystal and embrace it and all your components together in the Force. Bring them together, you'll understand how to do it once you start, and you'll have assembled your lightsaber."

Hermione seemed to hesitate for just a second, but then her hands were diving into her bag to search for her crystal. Harry smiled. He really hoped that she never lost the excitement she found every time she learned something new about the Force.

Ron rolled his eyes at the girl's antics, and simply pulled his crystal out of his pocket.

"Shall we?" Hermione asked.

"Ladies first," Ron answered.

She nodded and Harry felt her embrace the Force and sink herself into it. Her crystal as well as the many parts and pieces that she had labored over for the past month gently floated up into the air. They swirled around for a few moments before they seemed to gravitate in toward each other.

And then it all just slipped together and a slim, bronze and silver lightsaber flew into Hermione's waiting grasp.

She thumbed the activation switch and there was a sizzling _snap-hiss_ as a bright green energy-blade leapt into existence. Hermione had an ear-to-ear grin splitting her face as she gave it a few twirls, careful of the tight confines of Harry's bedroom. The blade blazed with emerald light as it cut through the air with a familiar electric _thrum_.

Hermione's gaze met Harry's, and he couldn't help sharing her goofy grin.

"Congratulations, Hermione!"

"This is amazing, isn't it?!"

"Green, huh?" Ron asked. "You a closet Slytherin, Hermione?"

She just rolled her eyes at him, but her grin didn't falter even the tiniest bit.

"I wonder what color mine will be…" he continued.

"Only one way to find out," Hermione said as she deactivated her saber and turned to look at him. "Your turn."

"Right," he said. "Here goes…"

Harry watched as Ron's crystal and components rose off the table and circled around each other. They started to slowly move together, slipping into position.

But then they stopped.

The hilt was just a hair's breadth away from completion when it started to vibrate and shake. Ron furrowed his brows in concentration, trying to bring his hard work to fruition. But it all just slipped apart and fell into a jumble on the table top.

"Huh," Harry grunted.

"What the hell?!" Ron cried.

"Let me take a look at everything again," Harry said, moving to once again inspect all the pieces. He went over it all carefully, but he couldn't find anything that was out of place. He shrugged.

"Try it again."

Once again Ron used the Force to bring his lightsaber components together, and once again it all fell apart at the last moment.

"This is ridiculous!"

"Ron, try releasing your tension into the Force," Hermione offered. "Your frustration might be interfering with it…"

He tried again and again, but each attempt was met with failure.

"This bloody well fucking _sucks_!"

Harry noted that Hermione knew better than to correct their friend's language at a time like this.

"I spent a whole _bloody_ month building this thing, and it won't even work?! _What_ the _fuck_?!"

"Okay, you're tired," Harry finally said. "And more than a bit frustrated. And it's getting really late. So why don't you take everything home and try again tomorrow when you're calmer? I bet it's just the stress…"

"Yeah, fine," Ron grumbled. "Bloody fucking lightsaber…"

His friends gathered their things and he walked them to the back door. Ron took off into the night without another word, clearly still upset at his failure.

Hermione turned to Harry before she mounted her broom.

"Thank you, Harry," she said.

"Sure," he replied.

"No, I mean it," she continued. "For everything. You've been the best friend that I could've ever asked for. You've taught me so much. And _this_ ," she gestured to the lightsaber hanging on her belt, "it's… I feel like I've finally found a part of me that I didn't even know was missing. I can't thank you enough."

He smiled.

"You're welcome."

Hermione stepped forward and threw her arms around Harry's neck in a tight hug. He was surprised for a moment – it was kind of awkward, he'd never really hugged a whole lot of people in his life, but he cautiously returned the embrace.

Then she shifted, lifting herself up onto her toes, and her lips planted a slow, lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks again, Harry," she whispered into his ear.

And then she was out the door and away into the night.

Harry raised a hand to his face and touched his check.

That was… odd. Hermione had never done anything like that before.

 _Whatever_ , he thought. _Girls are weird sometimes. She just got a little emotional because she completed her lightsaber and wanted to say 'thank you.'_

Harry dismissed the thought as not worth worrying about and headed back to his room for some well-earned rest.

* * *

 **AN: Thoughts?**

 **Now we've got** _ **two**_ **lightsabers to read about! I thought about giving Hermione a more unique color, like purple or Gryffindor gold, but then I decided to just stick with the classics. And of course Ron had to make a Slytherin joke about her saber being green. I didn't have that in there originally, but he wouldn't leave me alone until I added the line.**

 **Also, after posting chapters 14 and 15, I got a lot of comments asking or talking about either the fact that I should have Harry fight with both his lightsaber and his wand at the same time, or that lightsabers should/shouldn't be able to deflect magic spells. So, I've added two new discussions in my forums about those respective topics. If that interests you, follow the link in my profile to find them.**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


	17. XVII

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. Star Wars is owned by Disney. I am neither a British woman nor an animated mouse. Thus I do not own nor do I claim ownership of either Harry Potter or Star Wars, and I am not profiting in any way through the writing and publication of this story.**

* * *

Holocron

XVII

 _Wednesday, September 4, 1996_

Ron frowned as he looked down at the pile of components and parts that should have been his lightsaber by now. It was so bloody frustrating! It had been _weeks_ since he'd finished fashioning them all. They were perfect – neither Harry nor Hermione could find any flaws in his work. But they still refused to put themselves together into a working bloody lightsaber! He'd been trying every day, always with the same result.

He closed his eyes, blocking out the unused classroom he'd claimed, trying to forget about the jumble of _Merlin-be-damned_ lightsaber components, and just tried to breathe in and out. Calming himself. Trying to put himself into a better state of mind to try again.

I didn't really work.

It never really worked anymore.

As the frustration continued to build up over time, frustration with his lightsaber, with his failures, with his mother's nagging, with the Death Eaters and their attacks, with his sister whoring herself out to Corner, with Harry and Hermione always managing to show him up with their abilities, it just got harder and harder to find any sense of peace or tranquility in the Force.

He gave up on the meditation after a few minutes. He opened his eyes again and looked down at the pieces in front of him. He opened his mind and reached out with his senses to the Force. But he didn't surrender to the Energy that flowed around him, that would've taken forever in his agitated state, instead he grasped for it, wrestled for control, and bent it to his will.

It didn't take very long, and it was a lot easier than trying to maintain a sense of peace all the time. And it worked just fine as far as he could tell.

The Force never put up much of a fight against him. For an apparently all-powerful mystical Energy, it was rather easily subjected to someone who simply had the strength to try.

Ron sent the Force out to the pile of components and watched as they floated up into the air and orbited around the little sliver of kyber crystal. They slowly gravitated toward one another, each piece slipping into its place.

Then they stopped, and the whole floating mass started to tremble.

He fought down the urge to angrily push it all into place, to order the Force to do as he damn-well pleased. He'd interrogated both Harry and Hermione several times on what exactly they had done and precisely what it had felt like to complete their lightsabers. They both insisted that it all just came together quickly and easily. It was peaceful and calming, like gently falling asleep after a long day of tiring but fulfilling labor.

So he tried to calm himself, to ask the Force to complete what he'd worked so hard to achieve.

The trembling of the components grew stronger as Ron warred within himself, trying to find a sliver of peace amidst the turmoil of his frustration.

And then it all just fell apart as he lost his hold on the Force and the components dropped back down to the surface of the desk.

" _Bloody, fucking HELL!_ " he screamed as he leapt to his feet. "Why won't you work?!" He grabbed the chair he'd been sitting on and threw it against the wall with all his strength, the wood shattering against the stone. He lashed out with the Force against the other odd pieces of furniture that were in the room. They slammed into each other and smashed themselves against the walls.

He summoned another chair to himself and held it captive in the air before him. He slowly clenched his outstretched hand into a tight fist and watched with satisfaction as the chair was crushed into a floating ball of compressed splinters before his eyes.

"Fuck it!"

He swept the jumble of lightsaber components into his bag and stalked toward the door, not bothering to put the room back to rights with a few quick spells. It wasn't worth it. He slammed the door open, and strode off through the corridors.

"Bloody… Merlin-blasted… buggering shite…" he grumbled as he made his way toward the Great Hall for dinner.

He didn't notice that he had company until they spoke up.

"What's got your knickers in a bunch, Weasel?"

He turned to see Draco Malfoy and his two baboons Crabbe and Goyle.

"Your Mudblood not putting out for you anymore?"

"Fuck off, Malfoy," Ron snarled.

"Not that I blame her, really," the Slytherin continued with a smirk. "I mean, look at you, all pale and haggard, you look like you haven't slept in weeks! What have you been up to, spending all your time failing to seduce Brown again?"

"I said, Fuck _off_ , Malfoy!" Ron screamed as he threw his hand out at the other boy, angrily lashing out with the Force.

Draco yelped and flew back against the wall, slamming into it hard. Ron held him there, suspended two feet off the ground as he slowly closed his fist, cutting of the ponce's windpipe bit by bit.

"You think you're so bloody great, don't you, Malfoy?" Ron sneered as the other boy gasped and flailed at his throat.

Crabbe and Goyle tried to rush him, but a quick push with the Force sent them sprawling across the floor. Ron never even needed to take his eyes off of Draco.

"You think just because your Death Eater father has a pile of galleons that lets you do whatever you like. Say whatever you want." He tightened his Force grip on Draco's throat even more. "Get away with anything. You think your money makes you strong? You don't know a thing about _strength_!"

He let the git gasp for breath for another moment, it was really satisfying after all, before he finally released him. Malfoy fell to the ground in a trembling heap.

"I'll get you for this, Weasel!" he whimpered through his coughs as tears ran down his cheeks. "I'll get you and your whole, blood-traitor family!"

"You'll stay bloody well away from me, Malfoy," Ron fired back. "Or you'll get a lot worse from me than that!"

He turned and strode toward Great Hall, not bothering to watch as the three Slytherins picked themselves up and ran in the opposite direction.

Gits.

By the time he reached dinner, he was much calmer. Roughing up a few Death Eater wannabes did wonders for one's temperament.

He sat down at the Gryffindor table across from Harry and Hermione, offering a grunt as a greeting.

"Ron?" Hermione asked as she looked away from her copy of the _Daily Prophet_ to glance at him. "Are you feeling alright?"

"What are you on about?" he replied as he shoveled a pile of mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"It's just… you don't look so good. You're all pale and you've got dark circles under your eyes. Are you sick?"

"I feel fine," he stated as he started to eat. "Maybe a little sorer than normal, but that's probably just from Quidditch."

"I don't feel any leftover soreness from practice. You might have Wizard's Flu. I think you should go see Madam Pomfrey."

Ron slammed his silverware down onto the table.

"I said, I'm fine, Hermione! Leave off me and let me eat!"

The brunette witch looked ready to respond but Harry stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He turned to Ron.

"You need to be more mindful of your anger, Ron, you can't let little outbursts like this control you."

"For Merlin's sake, I'm not letting my anger control me! I'm just hungry. Let a bloke eat his supper already!"

He watched Harry and Hermione share a worried glance, but they didn't say anything further. Hermione eventually went back to her paper and Harry to his dinner.

It was a good thing too. Teaching Malfoy and his cronies a lesson took a lot of energy. Ron was famished.

"Oh Merlin, not another one!" Hermione exclaimed a few minutes later.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"Another Death Eater attack," she explained. "They attacked the home of an Auror last night. Auror Barry Dingle, his wife Felicia, and their three children were killed and the house burned. Oh, Harry, this is just awful!"

"We should find the bloody bastards and just kill 'em all," Ron offered as he felt his anger building inside him again.

"Language," Hermione automatically chided. "And how can you say such a thing? All this death is just terrible! We don't need _more_!"

"There wouldn't be as much death if we just got rid of all the damn Death Eaters! That's what, the sixth attack in the last two months? We should hunt them down and kill them like the vermin they are!"

"That's not the Jedi way, Ron," Harry said. "We defend life, which sometimes requires violence, but we can't just go out looking to kill people."

"Screw the Jedi way! They're all dead in some long lost galaxy."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

"No! I don't want to hear it! You know what? I've had enough," he said as he stood from the table. "I've had enough of bloody Death Eaters and Death Eater wannabes for one night. I'll see you two later."

He strode out of the Great Hall, leaving his half-eaten dinner and his two shocked friends behind.

OoOoO

OoOoO

 _Friday, October 25, 1996_

The glowing blades _hummed_ as they cut through the air. They flashed, shooting off sparks as they clashed together in a burst of static and light that lit up the early evening air all around them. They spun away again, only to fly back together less than an instant later, a flurry of strikes and counterstrikes that colored the surrounding trees and bushes with shades of blue and green and bright, lightning-like flashes of pure white.

Harry pulled back again before lunging forward. Hermione met the attack with a lateral parry and swung back at him. But in the Force he'd already known the blow would be coming and he spun out of the way, his movement transitioning gracefully into his own counterattack.

The Holocron had shown him how to adjust the settings on their lightsabers. If they turned up the blade's electromagnetic containment field to maximum, and scaled back the power output significantly, the lightsabers became safe enough to spar with.

'Safe' being a relative word, of course. Instead of severing limbs, setting the sabers to what they had taken to calling 'practice mode' merely left them with bruises, welts, and burns.

Hermione leapt into the air, somersaulted, and brought her emerald weapon down at him. But Harry was already moving, he angled his sapphire energy-blade so that when they met, most of the force of Hermione's blow was deflected with ease. He spun around and slashed at her side, but she was ready for him, and met his blade with a vertical parry.

Sparring with their lightsabers in practice mode had become a regular part of their Force training. It helped with their reflexes and precognition, it gave them a chance to learn and practice a whole new set of Jedi katas, and it was good exercise. Plus it was kind of fun.

A lot of fun actually.

They'd found a clearing on the far side of the lake that was far enough away from prying eyes to give them enough privacy to beat on each other with the fiery weapons. By the end of each session, they each typically sported a collection of painful burns and bruises. Ron normally had it the worst – he still hadn't managed to complete his own lightsaber, and while he was able to use Harry's or Hermione's, he didn't have a connection with the weapons like they did. Harry and Hermione each shared a bond with the lightsabers they'd built using their own hands and the power of the Force, and wielding them felt like an extension of their very selves.

The minor injuries weren't really anything to worry about. Most could be healed with a few simple charms, the very worst so far had required nothing more than a little bit of Essence of Murlap.

Harry circled his blade around Hermione's before stepping forward, locking the two lightsabers together in a storm of electric static, flashes of light, and dripping sparks. Their faces were only inches apart as they each pushed against the other's blade, green and blue warring for dominance. Harry pressed with all his might, but Hermione was no pushover, and the Force lent her strength.

She pivoted, throwing her off-hand forward and _pushing_ with the Force.

But Harry was already spinning around behind her, and his sapphire blade slashed against her shoulders.

She yelped and jumped ahead several feet.

"Point Harry!" Ron called out.

Harry glanced over at his other best friend. He still didn't look too good. His face was now almost always pale and drawn, and he constantly had dark rings under his eyes. But he insisted that he felt fine and he refused to go to the Infirmary. Harry had stopped trying to convince him, giving it up as a lost cause.

"Yes, I'm well aware," Hermione grumbled.

"That's what, four to two?" Harry asked.

"Four to _three_ , as you well know, Mr. Potter," she replied. "You're not _that_ far ahead of me and you know it. Try to cheat one more time and I'll make you rejoin Apparition lessons with me!"

Harry involuntarily shuddered. One attempt at Apparition had been all it took for both Harry and Ron to call it quits but Hermione was willing to subject herself to the grueling hours of nausea and dizziness just so she could say she was a fully-qualified witch.

Her determination could make her rather scary sometimes. Brilliant, but scary.

Ron laughed.

"I'd be careful if I were you, mate," he said.

Hermione switched her glance over to the ginger wizard.

"You're not off the hook either, mister."

Ron shook his head.

"Not even the Force itself could get me to apparate again, woman."

" _Woman_?!" she nearly shrieked.

Harry ignored the growing argument and tilted his head to the side as he felt a presence approaching them. He quickly deactivated his saber and hid it beneath his robes while adjusting its settings back to normal – just in case. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Hermione do likewise. She then quickly pulled out her wand and healed their collection of burns with a few _Episkey_ spells.

A few moments later Dennis Creevey walked into the clearing.

"There you are, Harry!" the newcomer announced. "I thought I was never going to find you! What are you lot doing all the way out here?"

"Practicing," Ron decided to answer.

"Practicing what?" Dennis asked.

"Magic."

"Magic?"

"Magic." Ron nodded seriously.

"Did you need something, Dennis?" Harry asked.

"Oh right! The Headmaster wants to see you, Harry. He told me to come find you right away and ask you to report to his office. But that was over and hour ago, it's taken me that long to find you. I hope you don't get into trouble because you're late… You won't tell him it's my fault, will you?"

"Don't worry, Dennis," Hermione said, "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"Oh, okay."

"I guess we should head back, then," Harry said to his two friends.

"Yeah, you're just afraid that Hermione's going to even the score," Ron offered as they started walking back toward the castle.

"She always does," Harry answered.

Hermione smiled and laughed.

"And don't you forget it!"

OoOoO

OoOoO

Harry knocked on the thick wooden door at the top of the spiral stairs.

"Come in, Harry," the Headmaster's voice called from the other side.

Harry slipped into the office and quietly shut the door behind him. The room looked just as he remembered: shelves overstuffed with books and oddities, a golden stand serving as a perch for the brightly colored phoenix, a myriad of tiny, silver instruments that twirled and jostled about, spewing out puffs of colored smoke or making odd little sounds. The Sorting Hat was hanging on a hook next to four individual slippers, each for left feet. On the walls all around, the portraits of the school's former Headmasters gazed down in something that looked like disapproval, or else were pretending to be asleep. The current Headmaster was seated behind his huge, claw-footed desk, smiling as if he didn't have a care in the world. In addition to his usual garish robes, he was wearing a pair of bright purple gloves, something that struck Harry as peculiar – wizards tended to shy away from gloves and mittens so that they wouldn't interfere with delicate wand movements.

"Please have a seat, Harry," he gestured to the chair in front of the desk. "Would you like a lemon drop?"

"Sure," he said as he took his seat. The candy was both tangy and sour. Not at all to Harry's liking. But he didn't want to be impolite, so he kept it in his mouth, hoping it would melt away quickly.

"I suppose you're wondering why I asked you to come to my office this evening."

"The question had crossed my mind," Harry replied.

"I wished to talk with you about Voldemort," Dumbledore paused, seemingly looking for some sort of reaction from Harry. When none was forthcoming he went on. "As you are prophesized to face him, I thought it would be best to see you prepared."

"Oh. Well, err… I am prepared. Or, I mean… I've been preparing, not that I'm in a hurry to run off and fight him."

"Indeed. I presume that you are speaking about your Jedi abilities? All is well in your progression there?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"I guess so. I did pretty well against those Death Eaters last spring."

"Indeed you did. With everything that happened that day, I never did get a chance to ask you… several students said they saw you wielding some sort of magical, glowing sword. What were they talking about, I wonder?"

"Oh, that. Well, err… That's my lightsaber." Harry reached under his robe and unclipped his weapon before holding it out for the Headmaster to see. "It's an ancient weapon of the Jedi Order. An energy-blade powered by a Force-attuned crystal that can cut through just about anything."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in curiosity.

"Might I see a demonstration?"

"Err… sure."

Harry thumbed the activation switch and the brilliant, sapphire blade burst into being with a sharp _snap-hiss_.

"Marvelous…" Dumbledore whispered as he peered at the glowing beam of energy. "It can cut through anything, you say?"

"As far as I know."

"Could we perhaps test that hypothesis?"

"Sure."

Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured a short, metal rod that hung suspended in the air.

"This metal is known as tungsten," he said. "It's one of the strongest and densest natural metals occurring on earth. Let's see how your lightsaber fares against it, shall we?"

Harry just shrugged his shoulders and slashed his weapon at the floating rod. The blade's electric _thrum_ shifted tones to a high-pitched shriek as it impacted the metal, but it passed through effortlessly, cleaving the inch-thick rod in two and leaving glowing, molten metal in its wake.

"Splendid!" Dumbledore cheered as he vanished the smoldering remains. "How about another test?"

"Sure."

This time when he flicked his wand, a stone block floated over from where it had been resting on a shelf in the corner. It was cover in intricate markings and runes, and Harry could easily feel the magic that radiated from it.

"This is a rune stone used for anchoring warding schemes. It's a heavily enchanted and rather powerful magical artifact. Normally they're rather… _resistant_ to damage. Let's see how it fares, shall we?"

"Are you sure, sir?" Harry asked with some trepidation, "I mean, that looks expensive. Do you really want to ruin it?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again.

"All in the name of discovery, Harry!"

"If you say so."

Harry took a breath and then slashed at his target, and again the lightsaber cut straight through it. There was a bit more resistance this time, but nothing that could withstand the Jedi weapon for more than an instant. But surprise overtook him as he felt the magical energies contained within the stone begin to discharge rather violently. He was caught off guard, startled because he'd felt no warning in the Force. But then the rapidly expanding energies seemed to be ensnared by something that pushed up through the ceiling and out of the room where they could do no further harm. Dumbledore noticed the expression on Harry's face.

"I wouldn't recommend doing that outside this office," he said. "The rune stone was clearly no match for your lightsaber, but the resulting explosion would have been quite deadly, if not for the protections I placed beforehand."

"You were planning on this?"

"Of course. Did you think I just kept fully-charged rune stones sitting on my shelf?"

"Err…"

"How about one last test?"

Again, he waved his wand and a thin branch popped into being.

"Really?" Harry asked.

"One more moment. _Protego!_ "

A shimmering magical shield instantly surrounded the branch.

Harry swung at his target, but his blade deflected off the shield with a bright flash of static and bounced off to the side.

"Hmmm…" Dumbledore mused. "It seems your weapon isn't as invincible as it first appears. Physical objects, even highly enchanted ones pose it no obstacle, but a simple Shield Charm is enough to thwart it."

Harry smiled.

"If it seems like it's too good to be true…"

"Indeed, it probably is," the Headmaster finished. "A fact that you should keep in mind should you find yourself confronted by the Death Eaters again. Voldemort, however insane he might be, still has a keen mind, and will think of ways to counter your weapon now that his servants have seen it used.

"But now that my curiosity is sated, perhaps we might return to the reason I called you to my office."

"Right."

"What I'm about to tell you, Harry, I must ask that you keep in the strictest of confidences. Word of this conversation must not get back to Voldemort, or else I fear we will suffer a terrible set back."

"Err… Alright."

"You see Harry, long before he was known to the world as 'Lord Voldemort,' our enemy went by another name – Tom Marvolo Riddle. He only began using his pseudonym after he had begun the most wicked of his sorceries, the creation of Horcruxes…"

The Headmaster spoke for a long time. Going over the story of Tom's life from his humble origins, to his academic achievements at Hogwarts, and then to his twisted fall into the practice of the Dark Arts. He explained the theory of Horcruxes to Harry, what they did, and what it took to make them.

"To my knowledge, Tom is the first wizard to attempt to make more than one Horcrux," the Headmaster continued. "The process has likely made him very powerful, just as it has driven him further into his madness. He is well beyond the point of reason, I'm afraid, driven only by his rage and his thirst for power and dominion. I had originally feared that the creation of multiple Horcruxes would place him beyond our ability to defeat, but as luck would have it, I… _convinced_ and old friend of mine to give me one of his memories. I now know precisely how many of the foul artifacts Tom intended to make. Seven. Six exterior soul jars and the seventh piece remaining within him."

"Seven? Why seven?" Harry asked.

"It is an arithmantically significant number, as you well know, with connotations of power and perfection, something that apparently appealed to him. And we are in luck, for I have already dealt with two of them."

The old wizard reached into one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out two items, and old book with a simple black cover, and a gold ring set with a simple, dark stone.

As he did so, Harry noticed something odd about Dumbledore's right hand. The purple glove was hiding something. He could feel it. He called upon the Force and focused his senses on the Headmaster's hand. There was a darkness surrounding it and within it, an oily manifestation that siphoned off the wizard's presence a trickle at a time. It was bound and contained by strong magics, but not completely.

He sucked in a quick breath when he realized what it meant. Dumbledore paused what he was doing and met Harry's eyes. They seemed to hold a wordless conversation for a long moment.

"I see you've discovered my ailment," the Headmaster said at last.

"I'm sorry," Harry tried to explain, "I didn't—"

"Don't worry," Dumbledore dismissed the apology with a careless wave, "I shan't hold your observations and quick mind against you."

"Is it…?"

"Yes. I'm afraid that it's quite fatal. But I have a few more months left yet. Hopefully enough time to see an end to these Horcruxes and Tom as well. I think I'd like to see a bit of peace before I embark on the next great adventure."

"If it's of any comfort, professor," Harry hesitantly began, "one of the tenants of the Jedi Code is about death. It says, 'There is no death, there is the Force.'"

"Thank you, Harry. I think I understand the meaning. And it is a sentiment that I whole-heartedly share. But I must ask that you also keep my condition secret as well. I'm afraid of what Tom might attempt if he knew that I wasn't at full strength."

"Of course, sir."

They shared a sad smile for a moment.

"But as I was saying, these two objects, this diary and the… Gaunt family ring, were once two of Tom's Horcruxes. The diary was brought to my attention a few years ago by Arthur Weasley, your friend's father. The ring I found this past summer. I've destroyed the Horcruxes that were contained within," Harry noticed that there was a hole burned straight through the book as well as a hairline fracture in the stone on the ring, "but alas, there was a dark curse upon the ring, and I made a mistake. Thus my current condition," he gestured to his hand.

"I also have good information as to the nature of the remaining Horcruxes. Tom was always enraptured with trophies, with objects of significance and importance. My research has narrowed down the likely items that he might have used. I believe he has found and corrupted both Slytherin's Locket and Hufflepuff's Cup. He's likely also made a Horcrux out of his familiar, a great, mutated serpent that he calls Nagini. The final item will likely be something of Rowena Ravenclaw's, as all of Godric Gryffindor's relics are accounted for, save for his sword, but that would not be compatible with the nature of a Horcrux."

"So now what do we do?"

"Now," Dumbledore said, "you go back to your studies and training, while I continue to search for the remaining Horcruxes. I will be sure to inform you of any progress that I make."

"Right."

Harry started to rise at the obvious dismissal, but he felt a suggestion from the Force. Something that he felt he should try.

"Err… before I go, could I… see those for a moment?" Harry motioned to the two former Horcruxes still out on the desk. "I'd like to try something…"

"By all means. They're completely harmless now."

Harry reached out and gathered the book and the ring into his hands. There was indeed a hole going straight through the cover of the book, through all the pages, and out the other side. It looked like it had been burned through, maybe with some sort of acid. The pages were blank which made him wonder why Voldemort would make something so simple and insignificant into a Horcrux. The ring felt both heavy and cold, and there was an odd symbol scratched into the surface of the dark stone – a circle within a triangle, both bisected by a vertical line. Interesting.

Harry closed his eyes, reached out into the Force, and focused his senses upon the items in his hands. He immediately felt the remnants of Voldemort's presence, the same presence that had tried to invade his mind in the graveyard, the same presence that he'd fought off with all his strength. It was a presence that somehow felt… familiar, as if he'd somehow known it his whole life. It wasn't nearly as strong in the former Horcruxes as it had been with the Dark Lord himself, their dark magic had been cleansed, just a remnant now remained.

But there was still enough for him to follow the urging of the Force.

He sent his senses out, stretching them far beyond the grounds of Hogwarts, through Scotland and down into England. He strained himself, pushing far past the limits of anything he'd tried before. He felt beads of sweat break out on his forehead and his hands start to tremble, but he held on to the Force and searched for the presence that was still tied to the remnants within the former Horcruxes.

And then he felt it. Them.

There were two far to the south. The Force gave him a glimpse of tall buildings and busy streets. London. He'd seen that skyline a thousand times.

Two more were also to the south, but further to the west than the others. They were in a large, wealthy manor house. One of them felt much stronger, much more active than the others. That had to be Voldemort. The other must've been his snake.

The last presence wasn't nearly so far away. In fact, it felt very, very close.

Harry snapped his eyes open and looked intently at the Headmaster.

"I know where the other Horcruxes are," he said. "And one of them is right here in Hogwarts."

* * *

 **AN: Dun dun DUN!**

 **But then again, you already knew where the Horcruxes were, didn't you?**

 **Any thoughts about the chapter?**

 **So, here's a fic recommendation for you:** _ **What's Her Name in Hufflepuff**_ **by ashez2ashes, which can be found right here on ffn. It has great imagination and it's hilarious and really fleshes out some characters that rarely get any 'screen time' – the Hufflepuff girls! Give it a read!**

 **Note, I made a couple small changes/additions to chapters II and VII. They're minor, but I thought I'd just let you all know in case you're the type that wants to check for completeness' sake.**

 **Thanks for your reviews, and thanks for reading!**


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